


Unspecified Dimensions

by Seaward



Series: Unspecified Factors [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Asexual Character, Don't copy to another site, Gender Identity, Identity Issues, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sexual Intimacy, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:32:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 45,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seaward/pseuds/Seaward
Summary: Atlantis, John, Rodney, and Carson do their best (in their own unique ways) to take care of everyone on Atlantis and those who might join them in the future. Meanwhile, Rodney experiments with toys and touch while John explores unorthodox options for preventing fires.





	Unspecified Dimensions

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Elayna for help and advice, no matter what I'm writing or what's happening in real life. (You're the best!) Any remaining mistakes are mine.

As they stepped through the Gate, everything was gray. Mounds of ash, sand, and rock were separated by rivulets of gray water. Nothing seemed quite in focus. A hazy sky and traces of ash in the air defeated even Rodney's enhanced vision. His senses of smell and taste recoiled at the wrongness, as if they too were out of focus. Reining all of that in, Rodney concentrated on the quiet breathing and heartbeats of his teammates.

"Don't think they have grains and greens to trade," Rodney complained, trying to act normal, at least his own personal normal. He pulled out his life signs detector and began scanning for geological stability as well as living threats. "Volcanic ash, up to two meters deep. Scans suggest a volcano four kilometers east erupted about a week ago. There's heightened geothermal activity and hot spots all over this area."

"Oookay, this just became a recon and rescue mission," John added stiffly. "Any idea where the people would have gone?"

"Through the Gate. Fast." Ronon started walking toward the only surviving houses. There was a bizarre oasis of three stone buildings with even a few plants still growing in the garden, despite a coating of gray ash. Around them everything else was buried in gray.

"Tuaou was famous for its pipes carrying hot water," Teyla said, "as well as the neighboring volcano and crevices that released smoke or steam. The Tuaouns believed the water they channeled protected them from harm while also warming their homes at night and heating their food and baths. I do not know of another settlement on this planet or anywhere they might have fled to escape."

"Pity about the pipes." Rodney coughed as he spoke and wondered why they didn't carry breathing masks as standard equipment. He was keeping a tight hold on his senses and didn't think he needed to mention that some of the locals hadn't escaped. He could smell them rotting even through the lingering ash, smoke, and mineral smells. He didn't much appreciate his so called gift at times like this.

John bumped his shoulder, a moment of familiar touch, and Rodney picked up where he'd left off. "Geothermal activity means there's water and steam under some of these piles of debris and ash, but mostly under the low spots in between, like where we'd tend to walk."

"Ronon!" John called out.

The big man stopped halfway between the Gate and the cluster of surviving houses.

"The way he's going looks mostly stable." As Rodney said it, Ronon started walking again. It made the scientist wonder about the tracker instincts the Satedan claimed to have and whether they included enhanced hearing, smell, and possibly other senses. Rodney certainly wasn't going to ask, not wanting to discuss his own supposed gifts. "I'm not picking up anything like life signs that way. Unfortunately, the part where it's least stable is where I might be picking up some indication of life. Even Ancient tech could be thrown off by all the hot water and whatever metal the pipes Teyla mentioned were made of."

John leaned close to Rodney again, as if wanting to see his readings, but really offering silent support. "We have to check. Plot us the safest route?"

"Follow me." Rodney led the way between drifts. He navigated with the detector held in front of him. When he passed the remains of a strangely rectangular mound and saw a hoof sticking out in front, he realized it had been a wagon pulled by some kind of Pegasus Galaxy bovine. The scientist briefly wondered if the locals had left the animal behind, harnessed to the wagon in their rush to escape, or if there were people under that pile of debris as well. Nothing resembling life signs registered under there on his detector. He picked a path around, avoiding the underground streams of hot water, especially the wider ones that must be flowing free of whatever pipe system the town had used.

A burst of steam shot off beside him. Rodney jumped and would have fallen backward if John hadn't caught his shoulder.

"Easy there, just imagine we're visiting Yellowstone," John whispered.

Rodney took three breaths and tuned out the suddenly threatening sounds of steam whistling and water trickling unseen all around them. "Yellowstone has elevated paths and is nowhere near this seismically active."

Teyla asked calmly, "Is the place you speak of related to the Yellow Brick Road in the Oz movie?"

Rodney suspected she was trolling them.

John answered seriously, "I'm not sure. I mean, some of the ground there is yellowish, and I think there's a Yellow Stone River. Why's this place called Tuaua?"

"Tuaou," Teyla corrected, "and I know not."

Ronon landed a few yards in front of them, on a not necessarily stable piece of ground that Rodney had no idea how the big man had reached from the intact area he'd been checking on before. "Heard it meant 'the home of fire.'"

"Fitting." Rodney pushed forward along the path he'd mapped, before Ronon led them all further onto unstable ground. The scientist trusted his readings more that any supposed tracker abilities or his own senses, which were pushed way down at the moment.

By the time they reached a square stone foundation, surrounded by rubble and ash as well as broken bits of wide pipe, Rodney was almost certain his scans were right. "There's a single human life sign. It's directly under this square of stone."

"This stonework is well fitted and intact," Teyla offered.

"Did the other houses have basements?" John asked Ronon, who'd checked on the three remaining homes.

"Nope."

"A lot of pipes pass through here." Rodney tried to improve his scan results, but the thermal imaging was a mess. The single life sign was the only detail he could focus in on. "The person doesn't seem to be moving and is under that corner." He pointed to the far right. "But if we break our way in we could release scalding water or steam that could kill or at least severely burn them or us."

"Got in somehow." Ronon was kicking debris away from the edges of the square.

Rodney coughed through the cloud of dust stirred up. "Also, the heartbeat is flagged as faster than usual for someone who isn't moving."

"Could be hurt or scared? Who knows how long they've been down there. Do you think they can hear us?" Then John called out loudly toward the ground, "We're here to help you. Stay safe and we'll find a way to get you out."

Rodney waved the Ancient device trying to find a gap in the flow of hot water, presumably in pipes, that might indicate an entrance, but the Ancient tech clarified nothing more than before. "No change in heartrate and no movement. I'm guessing they can't hear us."

"This piece has scrape marks." Ronon had somehow dug down four feet on one side while they'd been talking. On closer inspection, it looked as if he'd uncovered a ramp or stairs that had been hidden when ash settled. The rectangular block he pointed to did in fact have marks on one side as if a crow bar or similar tool had been used to pry it open repeatedly. The other edges all showed signs of rubbing, and there was no mortar, only ash clogging the seams.

"Pity you aren't still carrying that sword," Rodney muttered. "It might have finally been useful."

Ronon glared at him.

Teyla saved the day by holding up a long piece of metal, rougher and duller than a sword, but about the same length. "Perhaps this is the correct tool." In a few steps, she reached the rectangular stone in question and inserted the tool as if she'd been using it all her life. Ronon stood back to give her room while drawing his blaster. Aside from an awful scraping noise that forced Rodney to cover his ears, the entry opened neatly.

A faint greenish glow lined the opening.

"Hello!" John called, approaching with his hand on his sidearm. "We've come to help. Is it safe to enter?"

"Lifesign moving," Rodney whispered moments before a small face appeared, framed by the greenish glow, eyes blinking into the brighter light outside.

"Is one of you the last of your family? Have you come to take my place?" The voice was scratchy but high pitched. The body that of a filthy child which a cloth tied like a diaper and the only other covering something like bandages around palms and fingers. Rodney vaguely remembered that children were supposed to have faster heartbeats than adults. This one looked about the size of his niece Madison, who was nine.

Teyla squatted to meet the child at eye level and said, "I am Teyla, daughter of Tagan. Who are you?"

The little face scrunched up in a clear precursor to tears. Then the child shivered and straightened. "I am Oluah, daughter of Apoa and Ounamauoou. As the only survivor when our farm burned down, I was brought here to tend the pipes."

Looking around at the scorched world around them, John said, "Was that before the volcano erupted?"

Oluah looked past Teyla to John, eyes damp and blinking in the dim light of day, still bright compared to the basement where she'd been trapped. From where she stood, below ground level, only the immediately surrounding piles for ash and debris would be visible. "The volcano erupted?" The child shook her head violently side to side and wiped at her eyes with the dirty cloths wrapped around her hands. "It's not my fault. I moved the water levers whenever the balls moved too high. I barely slept. I worked so hard!"

"Do not worry," Teyla reached toward the child, who dodged back into the room. "I am sure you did your work well. What happened had nothing to do with you or the water levers."

Teyla followed Oluah into the small room. Ronon stayed by the door still holding his blaster, but John motioned for Rodney to enter with him.

The room was like a sauna, steamy warm and smelling of water and minerals. Pipes nearly covered the walls on two sides, along with levers and what appeared to be primitive pressure gauges. There were small light colored balls that presumably traveled up and down aligning with marks on the sides of the gauges.

Along the front and back walls grew bioluminescent plants or fungi that looked disturbingly like glowing green human brains. "What is that?" Rodney pointed at the light source.

"That's what I eat." Oluah sounded resigned. "My water fills the buckets here, for drinking or washing once it cools enough." She pointed to a sort of turntable arrangement with four buckets, one of which gradually filled from a dripping water spout. On the far side was a large basin with a single pipe leading out at the bottom. "I turn the buckets when one is nearly full. I use water from whichever bucket is the best temperature and dump whatever's left to clean the basin when I need a new one to fill." She sounded almost proud of that part.

"How long have you been living here alone?" Teyla asked.

Oluah shook her head sideways again. "A long time. Since our farm burned down. That was before keltau harvest time."

"Do you know where your people meant to go if the volcano erupted?"

Face scrunched up again, Oluah said, "It wasn't supposed to erupt so long as I tended the pipes right and everyone used the water well. I'm sure I did my part right." Now Oluah crossed her arms and planted her feet defiantly. "If someone else messed up, they shouldn't have left me here."

"That sounds quite reasonable," Teyla said. "But we only arrived today, and you are the only person we found here. Would you agree to come back to our world, at least until we can find some of your people?"

"One of you would have to stay and tend the pipes." Oluah glanced among them as if wondering who would volunteer. "Otherwise the whole world will burn. Maybe before we reach the Gate."

"That's ridiculous." Rodney had been studying the system of pipes and levers, and now he looked the little girl in the eyes and explained. "First off, it wouldn't burn. The pipes here channel hot water from geothermal springs. If you don't move the levers, pressure could build up and damage a pipe. That might be bad for some households or areas above the burst pipe, but even if you let all the pipes over-pressurize at once, the system isn't strong enough to force water back into the geothermal source." The girl opened her mouth to protest, but not fast enough. "I can set the levers so everything drains naturally. No pipes or geology will be damaged by your absence."

At that moment, the ground shook.

Oluah yelled, "No! Tuaou is angry!"

Rodney coughed. The child wasn't even his niece, but he found himself giving in to her unreasonable demands. Or at least he could pretend to give in. "Fine. You go with them to the Gate, and I'll stay here to fix the pipes."

#

John wasn't sure how the situation had gotten away from him so fast. The kid was crying. Rodney was fussing over pipes. And whatever was making the ground shake, John didn't plan to split their team. "We all need to leave. Oluah, someone needs to carry you so you don't hurt your feet. Who do you want?"

"No! If we all leave, the world will end!" The child raised both hands and tried to push John out the door.

Pretending to misunderstand her intention, John scooped Oluah up into his arms. "Okay, I'll carry you." As she pummeled him with tiny fists, John decided the team could split for just a little bit. "McKay will take care of the pipes." He made a hand signal behind the girl's back telling Teyla to follow with Rodney as soon as reasonable. She nodded her understanding.

When John carried the girl outside, she screamed in his ear, "You have to close the stone so he can't get out!"

Ronon raised his eyebrows but didn't say a word. Oluah squirmed in an effort to escape John's hold, and Ronon didn't make any move to help.

"Fine." John sighed. "Teyla, could you come out here and push the stone back into place?"

"Certainly." Teyla emerged and began to reposition the stone without protest. John hoped Rodney was distracted enough by the plumbing system not to mind too much.

Turning to Ronon, John said, "Can you find us a safe, quick path back to the Gate?"

Ronon led the way at a pace John could barely match while carrying a child who didn't try to hold on, but at least stopped actively resisting.

#

Rodney knew what was happening when Teyla started to push the stone back into place. He knew they were all humoring the child. Although he was actually setting the levers to release pressure throughout the system of pipes, he doubted anyone would come back to repair them. Still, there was no sense breaking things not already broken. He took a few quick photos with his tablet to document the set up. It was primitive, to be sure, but well designed and implemented to provide central plumbing with hot water for all.

It didn't seem like Teyla needed to close him in all the way.

Or for so long.

He'd finished setting the system for long term disuse. When he found himself staring at the brain shaped bioluminescent fungus, his mind raced through more cheesy science fiction shows than he'd ever admit to having watched. He imagined a green glowing brain flying off the wall to attack him. Or all the brains starting to speak with the voices of prior lives—recorded in creepy green glowing fungus.

Forcing himself to laugh turned into a coughing fit. By the end of that, he remembered Carson asking why they hadn't brought back melon and water samples on a previous mission. He still had sample containers in his tac vest, so he collected a sample from Oluah's drinking water and then from the fungus she'd evidently been eating for who knew how long.

Despite having food and water, even hot water, it wasn't someplace Rodney would want to be trapped. Sadly, he could list prison cells on various planets he'd liked better. He wondered if this would be added to his record total for being captured off world when it was his own team that shut him inside, at the insistence of a little girl.

The room was dim. His eyes had adjusted to the green glow, but the total lack of windows or even a specific light source made it feel like the walls were closing in. "Blue skies," Rodney muttered to himself. He tried to take a slow, deep breath but ended up coughing again.

Panting and out of breath he looked around for the tool like a crowbar that Teyla had used to shift the stone block the first time. Fear spiked as he became convinced she'd left it inside by accident. That would explain why he'd been trapped for so long. He wondered if she would be digging through the refuse outside for a replacement or radioing John to fetch a crowbar when he and the kid reached Atlantis.

Rodney knew this was only temporary. His team wouldn't leave him behind. It didn't even look like the tool for the door had been left inside. He just didn't know why Teyla hadn't let him out yet.

The ground shook again. A pipe rattled and echoed. Green bioluminescence flared brighter for a moment in a way only overactive vision could detect.

Rodney's mind spun with ways Teyla could have fallen and hit her head, been bitten by a poisonous reptile, or ended up trapped under flaming debris expelled by the volcano. He began to hyperventilate. When he tried to control his breathing, he choked and coughed.

Straining to hear anything Teyla might be saying or doing outside, he heard nothing.

Then there was a faint rasping sound. A sudden roar like the ground was opening up beneath him sent Rodney's hands flying to cover his ears and his feet pushing him back against the fungus covered wall.

The next thing he knew Teyla's hand was on his face, sweaty and callused, but still gentle. "Rodney, can you hear me? Try to breathe deeply. I'm going to help you up. If you can get your feet under you, I think you'll feel better outside. The others are close to reaching the Gate. We can now follow behind without Oluah seeing us. Atlantis will keep the Gate open, but I need you to breathe and walk."

Somehow, Rodney pushed to his feet with Teyla supporting one arm. He stumbled outside into blinding light and air filled with ash that made every breath hurt.

It felt so good to be out of that basement room. To be outside.

"Are you okay now? Can you make it to the Gate?" Teyla asked patiently, beside him.

"Yes, let's go." Rodney pulled out his life signs detector, still set to show the unstable ground they needed to avoid. His eyes adjusted to the outdoor light faster than he expected. That in turn made it easier to breathe. He led the way back to the Gate.

#

This time, his private room in the infirmary hid Rodney from a terrified child. Through the walls, he could hear Oluah crying. "I want to go home. I'll take care of the pipes."

Rodney didn't want to go back to the pipe room, but the Ancient breathing machine Dr. Biro had hooked him up to left him almost as claustrophobic. She'd covered his post mission check while Carson was busy with Oluah and insisted his lungs needed immediate treatment for spore and ash inhalation because of his coughing fits, even if no one else seemed to need it. So Rodney was alone, with a huge mask sealed tightly over his nose and mouth, extra tubes running into each nostril and his mouth, and a sticky sensor pad covering his bare chest. The hissing sound of air pumping in and out of the mask reminded him of the steam escaping through cracks on Tuaou. Rodney focused his hearing on what was happening outside his room instead.

Teyla's voice soothed, "This may all look strange to you, but as soon as we know you are healthy, we can go where there are other children."

"Everything here is cold and hard. I hate this place," Oluah screamed.

"Are there any soft blankets?" John's voice was asking someone, probably a nurse. "Anything for children?"

Teyla spoke again, "Dr. Beckett, there is a teenager with my people named Pelna who is good at calming smaller children and could bring comfort items from the children's center. If I sent for her, would you let her help?"

"We have to get this child through the full body scan first, before I let anyone else near her," Carson sounded tense but professional.

Oluah had been reduced to tired sobbing. Rodney sympathized. He hadn't been able to share a word or a touch with Carson since returning, and everything around him felt subtly wrong just for that.

A faint scent entered his mask with the next gust of air. The scent was strange, but the scientist was sure he'd smelled it somewhere before, if only he could place it. Then he remembered John's tangle of Ancient earbuds and other attachments. Escaping from the one that delivered scent had been this smell, some sort of Ancient spice, like a cross between cumin and cinnamon. Rodney wondered if it had some medicinal property that helped respiration or if the Ancients considered the scent soothing. Strangely enough, Rodney found the latter thought reassuring, as if Atlantis was offering him this small comfort the same as she would for John.

Outside his room, Teyla sounded more assured than ever as she gave instructions. "Ronon, could you radio the children's center and explain the situation to Pelna. Dr. Beckett, do you have more of the candy you gave Torren when he needed to lie still on the scanner? Oluah, listen to me. I am a mother."

As Ronon and Sheppard both muttered into their radios from different corners of the room and Carson rummaged in a drawer for a lollipop, Rodney heard Oluah fall silent at last.

Teyla spoke so softly he could barely hear. "I have a son, Torren, who is less than half your age. Just like you, he was asked to lie on the hard, cold bed so the healer could make sure he was healthy. Now I know you're bigger, that you took care of complicated pipes all on your own, so I know you can lie still on that bed while the light passes over you to show how healthy you are. However, because I am a mother, I know even older children like sweets sometimes. I've asked Dr. Beckett to find you the same sweet he gave my son. If you promise to only suck on it and not bite and to keep the rest of your body as still as possible, we will give you the special sweet as soon as you lie down on that bed."

Even Rodney found Teyla's words soothing. Few parents he'd known could be that calm and rational in such a situation. He would have gladly done what she asked at any age, even if he'd never had a lollipop before. That reminded him of the special scent he suspected Atlantis had added to his breathing machine, and he was amused to think of Atlantis trying to mother them all.

Over the next few minutes he listened in as Oluah was given her lollipop and submitted to the full body scan. Not long after that he heard Teyla introduce Pelna, who apparently brought with her a soft blanket and a plush toy of some sort. Casual comments here and there let Rodney follow along as Oluah was washed and disinfected and Carson conducted a few extra tests. Biro finished up John and Ronon's post mission exams. Then they left to brief Woolsey as Teyla and Pelna took Oluah to meet some other children.

Finally, Carson came in to see Rodney. The moment their hands touched, Rodney felt a comforting tug along their bond. He didn't want to let go of Carson's hand.

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" Carson used his free hand to brush across Rodney's forehead and down to his cheekbone. "You know I wanted to be in here with you, but that little girl needed me more."

The tube in Rodney's mouth made it hard to pout.

Carson seemed to understand as he stroked down Rodney's neck to his shoulder. "Just a few more minutes and you'll be free of this thing. Oh, and thank you for bringing back samples of Oluah's food and water supply. They tested as safe and her scan came back normal, given local conditions. I'm sure she'll be much happier with whoever Teyla finds than if I'd had to keep her here any longer."

Rodney nodded as much as he could in the breathing mask.

#

John stared at Woolsey from across the office above the Gate room. He tried to keep his posture loose, to show the expedition leader none of this was a big deal.

Ronon refused to even sit down. The Satedan stood by the door with his arms crossed.

"You can't bring back random children," Woolsey sputtered. All of his more logical arguments already exhausted.

"We couldn't leave her there." John didn't have to work to sound bored with the conversation. Everything necessary to the debrief had been handled in the first five minutes. Now Woolsey seemed to be dragging things out until Teyla could join them.

Instead Rodney stomped in. "I have nothing useful to say about this mission that isn't a matter of scanner readings and science none of you will understand. And I really thought you'd be finished debriefing by now. Where's the coffee? Do you have any cookies? I'm starving."

"We were waiting for your whole team to join us," Woolsey said, but he did pour Rodney coffee and pull a box of biscotti from behind his desk.

"Is Teyla still busy with the kid?" Rodney asked before chomping down on biscotti and chasing it with hot caffeine.

"She said she'd come as soon as Oluah felt safe with other people," John answered.

Rodney snorted. "Good luck! That kid hates it here. I could hear her screaming through the infirmary walls."

The door chimed and Teyla stepped in. "Sorry for the delay." Teyla nodded towards Woolsey and swept the rest with her eyes. "You will be happy to know we found temporary quarters with an Athosian host family. Pelna is helping them collect clothes and other items as necessary. The entire community around the children's center has been very supportive. Both the nutritionist from Earth and our community health coordinator have agreed to meet with the family tomorrow at lunch."

"They realize this is a temporary arrangement, don't they?" Woolsey asked.

Teyla moved to stand between John and Rodney. "All involved would be happy to see Oluah reunited with the Tuaouns. Either way, she now has more people who care about her than she did this morning."

"But how do we get her back to her real people?" Woolsey persisted, pushing aside his own coffee.

"Her real people are those with her best interests at heart." Teyla emphasized each word, slowly, as if that would help Woolsey understand. "We can contact the Tuaoun's known trading partners, and hopefully someone will know where their survivors have gone. But we know Oluah's family died recently in a fire and her people left her behind when they fled. Perhaps it was an oversight and they will be pleased to find one more of their number alive. But if they truly abandoned her or believe as she did that some failure in her work with the pipes doomed their settlement, then she needs a new home."

"But not here." Woolsey tried again when Teyla gave him one of her sternest looks. "Surely there are better places for a child of that age and background."

"Her people were known for their technology, not just channeling hot water, but also the metalwork they developed for pipes and tubs as well as mechanical skills employed for other tasks. They made large farming equipment that could be dragged behind animals to turn soil or clear fields. Dr. McKay has agreed to train some of our local youth in building and maintenance skills. If Oluah stays, perhaps she can build on the skills and patience she learned tending Tuaoun pipes."

When Rodney choked on his coffee, both Teyla and Woolsey offered him a napkin. "If I'd been trapped in that room any longer, I'd never want to work on pipes again. Besides, she's much too young."

"I suspect she will enter into womanhood within two Earth years." It was lucky Teyla couldn't see Rodney's face as she said that. John was amused at how someone so open about sex could be so embarrassed by a reference to puberty. Teyla continued, "It is true she has time to try out many interests. We are setting up classes in basic math and mechanics for slightly older students at the children's center, and all ages are exploring written language and map skills. This is a truly opportune time to welcome more young people into our community."

Woolsey took a deep breath and smiled. "When we agreed to let a hundred Athosians move in to the newly opened residences, there was no discussion of them adopting more children later."

"Surely this is no different from those families giving birth to children of their own," Teyla said. It wasn't a question.

"Of course, it's different," Woolsey replied without pause, folding his hands together on his desk.

John glanced between Teyla and Woolsey as they stared silently at each other. Ronon was watching Rodney who was devouring his fourth biscotti.

Finally Teyla spoke, "If you wish, we could give some priority to couples with one or both parents from Earth. We have several who expressed a willingness to take in local orphans on a temporary or long term basis. However, none of them have children older than Oluah. Given her positive response to Pelna and the sudden loss of her people, I matched her with a family that had lost relatives in a culling but still had one older daughter who would welcome a younger sibling. Do you disagree with my reasoning?"

Woolsey rubbed his temple just above his glasses. "I'm sure you made an admirable selection given the situation. Perhaps I should arrange a meeting to set policy going forward."

"Of course." Teyla smiled and John knew Woolsey had walked right into some trap. "We have a community meeting planned for tomorrow after dinner in the children's center to discuss community building and family resources. Everyone will be delighted to hear you're joining us."

John was proud of the way he kept a straight face until Teyla said, "I'm sure the rest of my team will be there, as they are all teaching in some capacity at the children's center."

The strangled noise John tried to stifle was lost under Rodney asking, "Will there be desserts or snacks?"

"I'm bringing nassanits," Teyla answered, "and Dr. Beckett promised to bring cookies."

"You can count on me to be there," Rodney said.

Ronon grunted assent from his place by the door.

#

That night, Rodney and Carson were already spooned together in bed when John showed up. It was a testament to how far their relationship had come in three short months that John stripped down to his briefs and crawled in beside Rodney without a fuss.

"Come closer, you're freezing." Rodney had previously been the little spoon. Now he tugged John up against him to make Rodney the middle spoon. The warm comfort of Carson behind him offset the chill, taut lines of John's body. But Rodney circled his hand on John's stomach knowing both the heat and large steady motion would help his more skittish partner to relax. The scientist kept a chart in his mind of John and Carson's needs, as he understood them, and ways he'd learned to satisfy them. Most of those ways involved touch. While John had told them early on that he was asexual, they'd all had to discover together what sorts of touch John enjoyed.

Pulling in tighter against Rodney's back, Carson extended a hand to rub John's scalp. The small hum John gave in response had Rodney extending his strokes to pet up and down John's side.

"I'm glad you joined us," Carson said.

"Teyla was pretty busy setting up for her community meeting tomorrow." John stretched his neck and settled even closer on Rodney's pillow, his scent blending with his bond mates'. "At first I thought she'd made it up in Woolsey's office, but evidently different participants were already arguing over the focus and agenda. We have one person on Atlantis whose winter solstice happens tomorrow and somehow that results in everyone having to leave their shoes by the door and ideally go home with a new pair of socks. Teyla mediated for over two hours to establish who could be given military issue socks and who was already provided for otherwise. She then conned a couple other people into knitting or weaving or something."

"Then they can hang the socks up as stockings for Christmas," Rodney suggested as he cupped his hands to slide along Sheppard's arm muscles. It wasn't quite massage, but John's muscles relaxed almost any time Rodney tried it.

"Or we could avoid adding more complications to the winter holidays around here," John sounded like he was complaining. From the way his body continued to relax, Rodney knew it was mostly a bluff.

"Carson and I made ginger snaps for tomorrow," Rodney volunteered as his hand found John's and their fingers brushed and wove together.

"I baked. You sampled," Carson said.

"Quality control is an important part of the process," Rodney whispered. John's breathing was slowing down. He was already falling asleep, and Rodney was glad to join him.

#

_The world was gray. Out of focus._

_Large mounds of ash blocked his view on all sides. All he could smell was ash and decay._

_Slowly, the ash condensed into smaller mounds._

_The smell worsened. It became the putrid stench of rotting flesh._

_Rodney closed his eyes, saying to himself, "No, no."_

_All around he could hear the ash settling, squelching. A sound like a hand squeezing around mud._

_Despite himself, Rodney's eyes cracked open. He was surrounded by gray bodies lying scattered across the ground. Bodies that started to flex their muscles. Shift as if waking. As if they would open their eyes and push themselves up._

_"Blue skies," Rodney told himself, "blue skies."_

_But the sky remained gray. The smell of ash and human decay shifted but lingered, as if the bodies had lain in the sun drying for weeks._

_Suddenly there was sobbing._

_Rodney's head snapped up to see the little girl they'd rescued sitting on the ground, arms and legs pulled tight against her body, as the gray bodies began to reach for her. She sobbed and sobbed until she spotted Rodney and screamed, "This is all your fault."_

#

Rodney startled awake. Pushing against the muscled body in front of him, he crashed back into someone else.

"Easy, love. Was it a nightmare? Can we hold you?" Carson's voice was calm, if somewhat rough from sleep.

"Let me know if I should move," John said from in front of him, keeping his back to Rodney until he was told otherwise.

To his own mortification, Rodney let out a sob, deeper than the sound in his dream but just as unexpected.

"Easy now, let me hold you." Carson rested a tentative hand on Rodney's shoulder and then stroked slowly up and down his arm.

Rodney shivered.

"Do you want to hold John's hand?" Carson asked.

Before Rodney could answer, a radio call broadcast through the speaker on his tablet, as it was set to do when he took his radio off at night.

"Fire on the east pier. Appears to be contained by Ancient safety protocols, but we need medical, science, and military risk assessments and response." Rodney didn't recognize the voice of whoever had night duty, but a glance at the clock showed it was close to morning, or at least close to dawn. He'd blame his crankiness on that and not the dream.

As all three of them climbed out of bed and started dressing, Carson said, "I could excuse you on medical grounds for your breathing issues yesterday."

"I'm fine," Rodney said. His voice was gravelly but too high.

"That's my line," John teased in his usual flip tone.

"Not like I was going back to sleep anyway," Rodney replied.

Carson laid a hand on his back as Rodney pulled on his shoes. "Later, we'll talk or whatever you need."

They all rushed for the transporter.

#

The east pier was the deep gray of very early morning as only a tiny haze of sunlight made if over the horizon. John wasn't sure if it was past nautical dawn, but most civilians probably wouldn't even call it twilight yet.

Two Athosians stood in a covered area with tables and benches to one side of the pier. As soon as Teyla had brought in the new community of Athosians, they'd begun gathering to welcome each new day there, much the way they had been when John first met Teyla.

A building on the opposite side of the pier smelled so faintly of smoke that John might have missed it amid the early morning breeze and salty tang of the sea. He nodded to two Marines, a night patrol that stood in front of the building, securing the scene as per protocol. "Any sounds from inside?"

"No, sir."

Rodney had his customized life signs detector out as well as a tablet in his other hand that John knew could interface with Ancient systems. "No life signs. I'm not detecting structural damage, but we'll need to do a walkthrough, preferably when it's light out. This building houses an Ancient lab that was cataloged and cleared but not in use."

"I'm not detecting any medical threats either," Carson said, looking up from his Ancient medical scanner.

John went to question the apparent witnesses and recognized the teen who Teyla had called to the infirmary. "You're Pelna, right?"

"Greetings, Colonel Sheppard. May I introduce my father, Tanok."

"Pleased to meet you," John nodded and motioned to the building across the pier. "Can you tell me anything you saw over there?"

Tanok nodded to his daughter to begin. "As I struck the spark to light the flame to start the new day's tea, I sensed something. It was as if another flame called to this one." She motioned to where coals glowed beneath an earthen container shaped like a rounded samovar.

John rubbed the back of his neck wondering how soon Teyla would show up if he didn't send someone to fetch her. "Okay, I get that you do this every morning. But can you tell me anything that was different this time?"

"My daughter and I have only filled this role once before on Atlantis, and it is all slightly different from our home village," Tanok replied. "I did not understand at first when Pelna pointed to the building over there and said there was fire. But as soon as we saw smoke, I sent her for help. I did not know what else to do but stay and warn any who came near."

"Did anyone else come by?" John asked.

"No."

"The two men there came running along the pier," Pelna said. "I led them to the fire, but they said the alarm told them to come. We did not hear any alarm."

"Yeah, maybe we should do something about that." John studied the two Athosians, wishing he was better prepared to question local informants. Even on Earth he hadn't had that sort of training. "So you didn't see or hear anyone or anything out here until the two Marines showed up?"

"Only the smoke," Tanok clarified.

"Okay, work with me here. Is there any way a spark or coal from your fire could have blown or been kicked over there?" John couldn't imagine it himself. Either his only witnesses were lying or the timing of the fire across the way was coincidental.

Both Athosians looked at John as if he was the one not making sense. "Okay, just stay here."

He walked back to where Rodney was still scanning and Carson seemed to be following without a word as they checked every side of the Ancient lab building.

"Any guesses?" John asked.

"Not until we get inside," Rodney said. "Given past experience with Ancient devices, I'm not eager to send anyone in until we know more. I've flagged the catalog and scans from when it was marked safe and sent them to a couple of night owls to check over, but I didn't spot anything. And you know I'm a genius. Also, there are no human sized entrances aside from the door facing those two Athosians. If they didn't see anyone, I have no clue why a fire would start now. Luckily, there wasn't much that was flammable."

By that point in the conversation, they'd reached a back corner of the building not visible from the front or from most of Atlantis. John asked, "Any reason I shouldn't touch the building?"

Rodney blinked twice before saying, "If you think it might help."

It was only since he'd bonded with Atlantis that John felt a connection when he physically touched the city. Usually he reached out to Ancient monitors, controls, or utility columns. This time, he tried to focus on the fire suppression and alarm system. His hand drifted up the wall almost naturally. But all he felt was a sense of completion and then a pulse of reassurance across their bond. "Well, I'm pretty sure the fire's out, and Atlantis thinks I'm safe out here."

The smile Carson gave him was too sappy for that early in the morning.

Rodney only said, "My reading said as much."

By the time they'd circled back to the front of the building, Teyla was arriving with Kanaan carrying a sleepy Torren. They met her in the middle of the pier and explained the situation as far as they knew it.

"I am unsure of how I might help, but let me speak with Tanok and Pelna." Teyla led John back to their only witnesses. Kanaan nodded and went to sit nearby where he and Torren could watch the sunrise. Rodney and Carson turned their backs to further study the lab building.

After greetings and touching foreheads, Teyla said, "I hear you found excitement before our morning tea. Are you both alright?"

"We were uncertain how to help," Tanok said, "but the men who came"—Tanok nodded toward the two Marines standing guard—"claimed a system existed to notify them and put out the fire. Perhaps in time we will know better what to expect and how to assist."

"All things in their time," Teyla responded. "Thus far, fire has not posed much threat to us on Atlantis."

"I felt something over there, as I lit our flame here," Pelna offered. "Could that be related to the alarm or fire prevention systems?"

"I do not know. Was it a sound? A smell?" Teyla tilted her head.

John shifted foot to foot with impatience and the early morning chill, but he tried not to interrupt.

"No, it was like catching someone's attention," Pelna said. "Back home, I might have struck a flame and looked up to see a pannit watching, the fire reflecting in its eyes or its stillness drawing my notice. Only here it was as if whatever noticed also lit a fire over there."

"Have you had moments like this before?" Teyla asked softly. "Are you particularly aware or attuned in any way?"

"Not that I know." Panit looked to her father.

"She was always a serious and attentive child," Tanok added.

Just then a younger child's voice rang through the damp morning air, "This is all your fault!"

#

"This is all your fault!" The words from Rodney's nightmare rang through the air. He looked back along the gradually lightening pier to see Oluah, mouth wide and screaming. She tried to charge at him, but a teenage girl and several adult Athosians held her back. They tried to hush the child.

Rodney froze as the gray bodies from his dream and the gray ash from the day before seized his lungs, stopped his breathing. Like a statue carved from granite, like a gravestone, Rodney froze in place.

#

_"This is all your fault!" Jeannie yelled at him in his bedroom as his parents yelled at each other in the kitchen._

_Rodney's lip was split. His left cheek and ear still hurt from where he'd been slammed into a gym locker._

_The worst part was, he didn't know why he'd been shoved in a locker this time. Sometimes there were hints in what bullies said: "smarty pants," "wimp," "fag," "weirdo," "wuss," "freak." Rodney had spent most of his school hours guessing and second-guessing why other people hated him. It was only by virtue of his genius mind and multi-processing that he had time to learn as much as he did. But the bully today had simply reached out and slammed Rodney's head into the locker. Rodney hadn't seen it coming. The guy was so much bigger, even bigger than most other high school students who were pretty much all taller and older than Rodney anyway…_

_The guy was huge. Broad shoulders. Muscles._

_Without a word, some even larger guy Rodney didn't recognize pushed Rodney's shoulders sideways into the locker. The bully's shoulders would have been physically too wide to fit in a locker. Rodney's head crashed a second time, slammed into a corner as his legs were folded into the bottom like shoving garbage into a can. The door slammed and Rodney didn't speak or make a sound._

_When he told his parents before their late dinner, the news set off a screaming match._

_"You made him into a momma's boy!"_

_"Hah, he's a sniveler like you. Look at Jeannie. She got along fine from her first day in preschool."_

_"What do you know? You never understood me, and now look at the boy, if you can even call him that."_

_Neither Rodney nor Jeannie had gotten dinner. Out of sight, out of mind._

_Except Jeannie had followed Rodney to his room, and he couldn't kick her out. Not getting dinner was his fault, and he had no idea how to make it up to her. They weren't allowed to keep food in their rooms. Rodney wanted to bury the less hurt side of his face in his pillow and bury his thoughts in the most advanced physics text he owned._

_Instead, he let Jeannie yell at him. At least it drowned out the voices in the kitchen._

_"This is all your fault!"_

#

"Are you with me, Rodney?" Carson's long vowels and soft voice tugged at Rodney just as their bond did. For a moment the voice across the pier, waves lapping at the edges, wind, even the buzz of electronics were all too loud, and then all he heard was Carson. It took longer to notice Carson's hand on his shoulder, trying to steer Rodney away from the scene.

Teyla and John had intercepted the screaming child and the latest group of Athosians gathering for morning tea.

Rodney fell into step with Carson.

Oluah's accusation still echoed in his head, connecting to his sister's and the voices of countless other children Rodney couldn't name or place. Sometimes he'd argued back. Sometimes he'd frozen. For years he'd tried to understand, at least enough to avoid recriminations and bullying. But he seemed to be incapable of passing as normal, whatever that was, until he insisted he didn't want to.

Once they were inside and facing a transporter, Carson asked, "Should we go back to my room for a few minutes? You could assign other people to investigate the fire."

Part of Rodney wanted to go home. To let Carson comfort him. But even wanting that left a cold lump in his throat and reminded him of names he'd been called as a child, of all the social expectations he'd failed to understand. The same way he'd distracted himself with physics texts as a child, Rodney needed distraction now. "Too much to do. I need to pull a couple engineers out of bed and check in with the night staff I assigned to review old scans and reports from that building."

"Are you sure? We could eat together first." Carson rubbed his shoulder.

The way Rodney's stomach lurched at the thought of food told him it would be a coffee only morning. He shook his head at Carson, hitting the transporter button for his lab. "I'll get something later, when I'm more fully awake."

#

John was seated with a cup of Athosian tea, which he only pretended to drink, as the sun rose.

After Teyla tried to explain why Rodney was back on Atlantis, Oluah's new big sister, Napat, calmed her down with a bag of raisins that had for some reason been included with the tea things.

"Are raisins your new favorite food?" John asked, trying to open his own conversation with Oluah while Teyla was busy greeting new arrivals.

"No, pulu," Oluah answered between raisins.

Napat opened her mouth to translate, but John was familiar with most Athosian foods at this point. "Hey, I like pulu. But you know what you need to try? Mango. If you ask in the mess hall, I bet they at least have some dried mango. One of my teammates really likes to snack on dried mango. He would have been so sad to never eat it again." John was talking about Rodney's love of mango, especially dried mango that was almost like candy, but John knew better than to spell that out now.

Oluah kept eating raisins one by one. Napat scrutinized John as if judging his fitness to speak with her adopted little sister.

John tried again. "I bet it got kind of boring eating the same glowing fungus every day."

"Less boring than water. I made designs with where I took my food."

Teyla rejoined the conversation at that point, and John wondered if she was rescuing him or Oluah from his flailing attempts at communication.

"I would be interested to hear about the designs you created," Teyla said.

"I recreated our farm, the way it looked from high up Tuaou. Fields in back. House center. Small animals close in front. The bigger animals would have been next, but I hadn't eaten that far yet."

"You made a map of your farm by where you picked your food from the wall?" John asked.

"Yes, I was told not to ever eat all of what grew from one section. The first parts I ate were halfway regrown by the time you came."

"Would you like to learn about map making or art?" Teyla asked.

"Napat is going to teach me weaving and take me to school with her."

"Very good." Teyla's eye shifted to Napat.

"She says the man who didn't stay to tend the pipes teaches music with metal chimes."

"McKay does teach music, with metal chimes that he makes." Teyla gestured to show the size and shape of a chime. "He teaches some who are Napat's age or older to care for buildings, pipes, and heating systems here."

"Can he build metal people?" Oluah asked.

"We call them robots," John jumped in. "And they don't have to look like people to do work people used to do."

Oluah didn't glance John's way but paused in her gobbling of the raisins to ask Teyla, "You said he made my pipes safe to tend themselves. Did he build a metal person to do that?"

"I did not see his final contraption, but perhaps the word John offered, robot, would suffice for whatever mechanical solution."

"I'd like to make a mechanical person," Oluah said.

That was when John noticed Woolsey standing behind him, although Teyla has clearly spotted him sooner, and perhaps guided the conversation accordingly.

"Wouldn't you rather get back to your people?" Woolsey asked as he moved to stand between John and Teyla.

Oluah did not answer until Teyla said, "Oluah, this is Mr. Woolsey. I believe his question is for you to answer."

"I will go if any are found who want me with them." Then Oluah held the bag out and said, "Would you like raisins? They are small dried fruit."

"No, thank you," Woolsey said with crisp politeness. "Sheppard, Teyla, a word if you will."

He started walking down the pier as Teyla said, "Please excuse us."

John said over his shoulder, "Enjoy the raisins."

When they caught up with Woolsey, he said, "Do you know what happened yet?"

"A fire in a disused Ancient lab was put out by Ancient fire suppression systems," John reported. "Scans suggest damage is minimal and no one was inside, but McKay is arranging for a new safety inspection later this morning. Two Athosians saw some smoke but nothing else useful. Silent alarms notified the night watch and a security detail arrived within three minutes. We should consider adding an alarm system audible to anyone nearby who might be in danger."

Teyla added, "I believe I have spoken with every Athosian awake at the time or who was outside last night, but no one saw anything suspicious. The girl who made tea this morning said something caught her attention, as if an animal or other observer noticed her, but that may have been her noticing the smoke before realizing what it was."

Woolsey frowned and stared down at Teyla. "It is suspicious that the fire started at the same time as two Athosians were starting a fire for tea."

"Agreed." Teyla pressed her hands together. "Nonetheless, I can find no connection. Perhaps we could ask if any non-Athosians who were out last night saw anything or anyone in this vicinity?"

"Not likely an arsonist would step forward," Woolsey said, "but I will make an announcement asking for others to come forward with information. Any other precautions we should take?"

John and Teyla both shook their head.

Woolsey focused on John. "I noticed a revision to Gate team destinations today?"

"I juggled trade missions to send a couple teams to markets the Tuaouns were known to frequent. That might give us a lead on where they went. Our teams will still barter and build trade alliances as usual."

"Very good. Keep me posted." Woolsey headed back up the pier.

Teyla took the opportunity to update John on talking point for the community meeting that evening and how they might respond to questions about the fire.

#

Rodney stomped into Carson's office. "Zelenka kicked me out. Well, he threatened that if I didn't find someplace else to work, he was excusing himself and everyone else in our lab for the rest of the day."

"It is only a couple hours before dinner," Carson said. "Given how your day started and how early, would it be so bad to take the rest of the day off?"

Rodney threw himself into a chair across from Carson. "I have work to do."

"Was there much damage from the fire?"

"No, Atlantis had excellent fire suppression systems in that lab. All the reports on content and structure came up clean. Not that we have a single good hypothesis for what started it."

"Maybe John and Teyla will turn up something with their investigation."

Rodney snorted. He was glad to distance himself from the human side of things. "They told Oluah I made the equivalent of a clockwork man to take my place. I will never understand the ways in which adults choose to lie to children."

"Agreed." Carson looked between the Ancient console and the tablet on his desk. "I'm guessing you wouldn't find it relaxing to give an extra music lesson at the children's center today." Before Rodney even knew he was shaking his head, Carson proposed, "But maybe a soak in a jacuzzi or a long shower would help relax you."

In truth, Rodney wouldn't have minded cuddling up in bed or showering with Carson, but he could see by the flickering of his partner's eyes between screens that the doctor still had work to do. "No, you go ahead with whatever you were doing. I'll just work from here."

Rodney pulled up the latest project proposals from science staff on his tablet. He started highlighting in red all the bad assumptions in a plan to upgrade the Jumpers for energy efficiency in stealth mode. Halfway through he lost patience and marked it, "Rejected—Too Flawed for Serious Comment—Review Basic Physics."

The next proposal pissed him off so badly that he shunted it to Zelenka after only reading two paragraphs.

After repositioning his chair so he could rest his feet on the base of another office chair, Rodney decided to review new data from the rec center instead. Energy use was higher than expected, higher than the recently opened residential units that now housed 134 people on the same pier. At first Rodney suspected the jacuzzis, which he could almost have forgiven, but their power consumption was minimal. Checking farther, so was any sign of their use. Then he found a schedule for adding Earth pool chemicals and a separate report about damage to partially organic components in the water filtration system. Digging through the labyrinthine Atlantis database, Rodney found the Ancients specifications for how the system was supposed to work. He sent copies of all three to both marine biology and chemistry telling them to do their jobs and stop any further idiocy right away.

"Are you actually working or just berating people remotely?" Carson asked.

"My work requires berating people," Rodney grumbled. Then putting both feet on the ground he asked, "How could you tell?"

"When you're not pounding on your tablet, you're tapping hard enough on your knee that I fear you might leave bruises. You're constantly shifting in your chair and twitching your legs, and your shoulders are pressed up almost to your ears." As if Rodney wasn't grateful enough for having someone in his life who could precisely explain how they saw him, Carson continued by suggesting, "Would you be more comfortable working from my place?"

#

For a while they seemed to be working together fine, settled on Carson's wide couch with classical music playing softly from across the room. Rodney actually found it easier to plow through his more administrative duties as head of science without the constant distractions of his lab. Unfortunately, the work was boring, and each individual task tended to be short. There were too many opportunities to notice Carson working beside him, to want to shift closer, to find excuses to shift a leg or arm to make himself more comfortable.

When their knees finally touched, Carson asked, "Are you ready to call it a day?"

"It was just an accident. Knees bump sometimes." Rodney pulled back several inches on the couch.

"Rodney," Carson's voice sounded much too calm and patient, "we really can stop working for the day if you're ready. Do you want to talk about what happened this morning?"

"Definitely not."

Carson placed a warm hand on Rodney's knee, and looked him in the eye. "Okay, do you want to put on your strap, with or without a plug?"

The idea was so obvious, Rodney couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it himself. Wearing his strap would give him a sense of control he'd been sorely missing without even noticing. "That's a good idea, but instead of a plug, I think I want something else."

When Rodney didn't continue, Carson rubbed circles around his knee. "What do you want, Rodney?"

"I don't know. Something to tie me down, not like clamps." While the nipple clamps Carson had given him a few weeks ago had worked better than expected, Rodney found himself in a strangely non-sexual place for how much he wanted to cling to Carson today. There was a distance between them, or maybe between Rodney and everyone else, that he didn't know how to bridge. "It's like I'm filling up with something lighter than air and drifting away. I need a string or something to hold onto."

"Put on your strap and I'll offer you a choice." The way Carson issued the instructions, before giving Rodney's knee a squeeze and letting go, had Rodney up off the couch in a second.

He went to the drawers Carson had allotted him and pulled out his most basic strap, a modified dance belt without padding and trimmed to be a bit narrower in front. It wasn't as if Rodney would ever be seen in tights or the sort of pants a ballet dancer might wear. He knew he didn't have the figure for that, among other reasons.

Still wearing the top part of his uniform with his strap, Rodney turned around to see Carson had set out a coiled length of what appeared to be soft black rope and the doctor's nicest set of loungewear, a navy blue top and pants like sweats but made from a surprisingly smooth synthetic. Rodney stepped forward to run his fingers over both the rope and the clothing. "What did you have in mind? And when did you buy this rope?"

"The rope arrived with the last Daedalus run, and I have ideas but no firm plans for how to use it. I only pulled it out now because you mentioned wanting a string or something to hold onto." Carson lifted one end of the rope but held the loungewear out to Rodney instead. "I'm guessing you'll find this more grounding, although you're welcome to hold onto me or the rope as well."

Without conscious thought, Rodney stripped off his uniform jacket and shirt. He pulled on Carson's navy blue shirt and was surrounded by scents of cocoa butter, sandalwood, and Carson. He breathed deeply as his arms slid into the silky long sleeves. But when he pulled the rest down his chest if fit much tighter than on Carson. "I'm too fat."

"You're built differently than me. It fits you differently," Carson said. He stroked his palms along each side of Rodney's chest, up and down. "How does it feel?"

It felt so good. The fabric was smooth and tight, like Rodney's strap. Even beyond the lingering smell of Carson, everything about this outfit reminded Rodney of his partner. These were Carson's comfort clothes, and he'd given them to Rodney to wear. Rodney pulled on the pants and then twisted back and forth a bit to let the silky fabric slide across all his skin.

Carson had pulled back his hands but watched intently. "I guess that means you like how it feels?" Rodney nodded feeling strangely nonverbal. Carson asked, "Do you want the rope or anything else?"

Rodney shook his head and went to sit on the couch where they'd been before.

"Did you want to keep working?" Carson sat back down and picked up his tablet.

It was easy for Rodney to pick up his own tablet and move to where their knees were touching without any pretense. He felt more settled and connected than he had all day, but he didn't want to read words, let alone speak. Instead, he checked the math for a new solar panel alignment algorithm. It was the first work he'd done all day that went right.

Nonetheless, he caught himself bouncing the knee that touched Carson and realized his hands were fiddling with the hem of the shirt he'd borrowed. His body refused to settle where he was, and it seemed natural to pull a cushion from the couch to the floor and sit where he could lean against Carson's leg.

After a moment, Carson's left hand moved to stroke Rodney's hair. The scientist let his head rest against his partner's knee as Rodney went back to reviewing the solar array equations.

Then he heard his partner whisper the words, "Good, boy."

Rodney's body went still. His tablet dropped the short distance to the floor. The soft clothing he wore and the cushion he sat on didn't feel right anymore.

"Rodney, remember to breathe. Is this a zone or a flashback?"

At first, Rodney didn't know the answer. He was pressed against Carson's calf and knee. Carson's hand rested in his hair, but was no longer moving. Breathing. Right, Carson said he needed to breathe deeply and Rodney realized part of his stillness had been that he was barely breathing. He took a deep breath and then slowly let it out.

His mind raced with voices and memories, mostly his father saying, "Good, boy," in situations Rodney couldn't understand or in other cases commenting on his failures as a boy.

"Can you give me a color?"      

"Yellow," some part of Rodney's racing mind answered for him.

Carson removed his hand and tried to pull his leg away, but Rodney wrapped an arm around, feeling he needed that leg to tether himself to this time and place and Carson.

"Okay, whatever touch you want is fine." Carson's words were slow and deep, as if they were reaching Rodney from across a great distance. "I am finished with my work. I want nothing more than to give you my full attention. But I am fine with sitting here for as long as it takes. I'll wait to see or hear whatever you want to share."

It seemed almost unreal to Rodney that he was sitting on the floor, wearing Carson's clothes, clinging to his leg. He remembered every step that had brought them to this place. He didn't think he'd zoned. While his head was crowded with unpleasant memories, he didn't think he'd had a flashback since that morning when Oluah's screams had brought him back to the screaming of his sister and parents.

"The only time I was called a good boy was when I hurt." Rodney waited to see if Carson would guide the conversation, but his partner only made a soft listening sound. "For a while, I thought not complaining when I got hurt was the only way I could be a good boy. I hated that, and it didn't fit every situation as I got older. So I kept trying to figure out what it meant. I knew what 'good' and 'boy' meant. But what did that have to do with rolling in the dirt with my cousin's dog or pushing a neighbor girl away when she tried to put a crown of flowers on my head? Pushing and getting dirty were usually considered 'bad,' and I couldn't figure what any of it had to do with having a penis to pee through. I guess I knew some people thought flowers were girly, but I was more worried about possible allergies and not being able to breath—or about neighbor kids playing tricks on me. I didn't even like the dog at first, but he was better than my cousin."

Rodney turned to face Carson, resting the other side of his head on Carson's knee. "I must have guessed what 'momma's boy' meant after a while. And I figured out 'fag' and 'wuss' as meaning I wasn't tough or ever going to get chosen for games or sports. But when my dad questioned whether I should even be called a boy, I didn't really understand. I didn't have much in common with other boys, but I didn't see why that mattered. I didn't really see why being a boy or a girl mattered, except that boys could pee standing up, but mostly, I didn't want to be either. There were so many things I struggled to understand. That one didn't even seem worth the struggle, like I'd never see it the way other people did. It still doesn't really make sense to me."

"I'm sorry my words upset you," Carson replied softly. "I thought it was for a different reason, but that doesn't matter. It's not a phrase I use much, and I think I can avoid it. Are there any similar words you don't want to be called?"

"I didn't think I'd react to that," Rodney said, feeling more than a little embarrassed.

"Would you like to join me on the couch?"

Rodney pushed himself up, bringing the pillow with him and shoving it back into place. "I thought this was all settled once I could make people call me doctor instead of mister." He curled up next to Carson who put an arm around his shoulders. "Before that people occasionally called me 'boy' or 'son' and it annoyed me, but not like right now."

"It might have been worse coming from me or in this situation," Carson offered, stroking Rodney's arm.

"This morning I had a flashback to my parents arguing about that stuff, though I thought it was more about Jeannie yelling at me with the same words Oluah used. The same words I'd heard in my dream." Rodney set his hand on Carson's knee and was surprised at how real and warm that felt even though they were already pressed together along one side. He started to stroke up and down Carson's thigh, just to touch more of him. In learning how to touch John, Rodney was starting to sort out when his own need for touch wasn't sexual.

Muscles flexed under Rodney's hand, then Carson asked, "If you can't think of other words that might be triggers, do you think you could handle me asking you about a couple?"

Rodney snorted and squeezed Carson's thigh. "Go ahead."

"I know I sometime use the word 'lad' but I can't remember if I've used it with you?"

Nothing in Rodney reacted to the word, and every memory he associated it with involved Carson. "You have, in the infirmary before we were involved. I don't think it would bother me, but I don't think I'd like it either."

"Fair enough." Carson relaxed a bit and rubbed Rodney's shoulder. "What about 'babe' or 'baby'?"

Rodney laughed. "In the right moment, I might find those sweet, but right now they sound ridiculous. Look, I'm not even sure why 'boy' bothered me so much this time. I may have some bad memories, but this was an atypical day."

"Sometimes those are the days we learn the most about ourselves." His partner turned to look at him then, and Rodney felt Carson's gaze as a warm touch to his face when Carson asked, "Have you ever thought about not being male?"

"Sure, I had dreams as a kid where I was a robot. Did you hear when John said he'd be fine with me as a robot or cat or whatever? I wonder if it's easier for him to accept because he doesn't care about sex the same way?"

Carson ignored the part about John and said, "You seemed kind of upset when someone drew you as a robot trying to use a pinecone as a penis."

"You think that's about being male? I care way more about having sex than what organs I use to have it. You've heard about my tentacle dreams." Rodney batted his eyelashes playfully.

Carson's fingers stroked up his neck. "But that wasn't about you having tentacles."

"Oh, trust me, I've dreamed about having my own tentacles, having both a penis and a vagina, having programmable sex organs. I'll tell you sometime when I'm more in the mood."

Carson held him tighter, "Fair enough. You know, that Ancient device for reproductive system repairs has options for more than the typical male and female parts."

"Seriously?" Rodney asked. The scent of his lover surrounded him up close as well as on his borrowed clothes. Rodney's mouth ran on autopilot, "That's what I miss by delegating out the approval process for most Ancient medical tech. I don't think I'd want any Ancient tech changing my body around, but it might be fun to read, when I'm in the mood."

"You're making it pretty clear you're not in the mood for sex tonight. Is there anything you would like?" Carson asked as he massaged the nape of Rodney's neck.

"Think we could convince John to pick up dinner for all three of us? I just realized how hungry I am."

#

John arrived at Carson's door with three plates of the latest Atlantis mess hall variations on cornbread and chili, along with some alien vegetable to be named later. The door let him in with a thought, since he didn't have a hand free to knock, and Carson had said repeatedly that John didn't need to. Still, seeing Rodney curled up on the couch in Carson's arms, eyes mostly closed with Carson rubbing his neck made John feel a bit like he was intruding.

Then Rodney shouted, "Food!" With surprising speed the scientist was up off the couch and grabbing the top plate.

"Thank you, John," Carson said as he helped settle the other plates on the table. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water is fine."

Carson served John water and Rodney coffee while making himself a cup of tea.

"You'd really be fine with me as a robot?" Rodney asked while gobbling cornbread and chili.

Having no idea where the scientist's brain was coming from or heading to, John settled for saying, "Sure, buddy."

"Buddy's fine, too," Rodney said.

John had always assumed Rodney liked being called buddy. He took a bite of cornbread to hide his confusion at the turn in conversation.

Without looking up from his food, Rodney continued, "Some other things you've said make more sense to me now. I have a whole new understanding of touch separate from sex. A lot of people miss that, not just that some people could be asexual and some might be more sexual than others, or more stimulated by visual aspects. I didn't expect to understand sex and touch differently as a result of knowing you and Carson rather than some Ancient device zapping my brain or whatever, but for once I'm happy to take the low-tech approach. I still don't understand what other people care about as far as male and female stuff."

There had been many times when John couldn't follow what Rodney was babbling about, but usually those involved more physics.

Carson sat down with his tea. "Rodney, do you want to tell John about the words that upset you earlier?"

By that point Rodney had eaten everything on his plate except the greenish-brown leafy vegetables. "I don't like being called 'boy,' but I don't foresee that coming up much with you. Did you bring dessert?"

John kicked Rodney gently under the table. "They're serving desserts and snacks at the community meeting in the children's center, remember?"

"Is that tonight?" Rodney asked, all wide-eyed innocence. His feet closed around John's. "Couldn't you tell them we're busy working? I'd much rather pile together on the couch and not deal with anyone beyond the two of you tonight."

"Teyla would be disappointed. You know she sees through all our excuses." John shrugged. They both knew it was true. Relaxing together, possibly with a movie, sounded better to John as well, but he was resigned to attending the meeting Teyla had put so much effort into organizing. Instead of tugging to get his foot back from Rodney's clutches, he turned his toes sideways to rub Rodney's calf.

"While I would have enjoyed a quiet night in with you both, I'm rather looking forward to hearing everyone's thoughts tonight." Carson looked at the untouched vegetables on Rodney's plate but didn't say a word.

John tried a bite of his leafy greens and had to smother the foul, bitter flavor with several bites of chili. When he could speak again he attempted to appease Rodney. "Besides, Teyla promised us nassanits, and you said Carson made ginger snaps."

Rodney licked his lips. "I'm keeping this shirt and my strap on under my uniform."

"As you wish," Carson teased.

John laughed, even as he thought there must have been more he missed than Rodney reacting badly to the word 'boy.' As they cleared their dishes, John noticed a coil of black rope lying on Carson's bed. It looked smooth and silky, like it called out for someone to touch it. But with the peculiar way Rodney was acting, John didn't want to ask.

#

While Rodney had spent several hours in the children's center teaching music, he'd never seen the large meeting room at the back. Its walls were a warm butter yellow with paint fresh enough to smell. Blue and green windows in the Ancient version of stained glass stretched to the high ceiling, dwarfing the people who sat below on a series of risers and scattered pillows. Rodney wanted to snag a place by the wall, for the sake of his back, but first he had to remove his shoes, some door monitor was insisting. The door monitor carried his shoes quite a way away, to a different area than John's or Carson, and Rodney watched to make sure he could find all three pairs later.

He caught John tracking the shoes the same as he was, but probably for different reasons. Then Rodney crossed the room to collect a handful of ginger cookies and spicy nassanits.

Someone Rodney had never seen before cornered Rodney by the snack table saying, "Honored music teacher, my son says he tried to play our lullaby on chimes you made but didn't have all the right notes. May I sing you a line?"

By the time Rodney had determined which two additional chimes were needed and promised to handle it, the seats by the wall were all taken. Carson waved to pillow he'd saved for Rodney just in front of a riser, so there was a little back support. He'd also prepared Rodney a small plate of additional snacks and a cup of coffee, so Rodney sat without complaint as Teyla began the meeting.

It was easy to ignore most of her nice words in favor of eating his nice snacks.

As Teyla spoke about the children's center, the potential for future meetings in the room they were using, and the community center offering "…appointments and drop in hours for the nutritionist, physical therapist, local health ambassadors, and…" Rodney munched cookies.

Some social scientist explained, "Our designated safe space utilizes a room designed for art therapy. One wall will be reserved for suggestions, like those collected on the mess hall windows before Halloween. The others are for creating art, with an Ancient autosave feature, so when the walls fill up, all images are saved and viewable on the console in that room. There will be a wardrobe and cosmetics sharing station, for people to try out what others no longer need, and all forms of apparel and discussion will be accepted with options to schedule specific gatherings…"

Rodney crunched into a nassanit but was sure the sound wasn't loud enough to bother anyone else. The Athosian treat smelled so good beside his coffee that Rodney experimented with dipping one in. The nassanits lacked the necessary structural integrity to dip long enough to absorb coffee. But the hint of spices in his coffee afterward was delicious.

Then Kusanagi was talking about opening a maker space with a recycler/3D-printer that could handle specific Ancient materials. It was less advanced than what they used in the science labs, but Rodney had assumed that device had been moved to medical, along with other devices from this building. He looked to Carson, who seemed to understand the implied question and just patted his knee to say this was already settled. Kusanagi continued, "I will oversee and schedule other science mentors. We have a request for a robotics mentor and consultant hours for fixing personal electronics and other devices. Please let me know if you would like to help?" Kusanagi was looking at the floor as she made the request, but Rodney scanned the audience to make sure no one reckless seemed eager to volunteer. Kusanagi had a good mind for details and seeing the implications of a project, but most of Rodney's trained monkeys couldn't be trusted to oversee their own projects, let alone anyone else's.

Then one of the Athosians took the floor and made suggestions for growing food on Atlantis and the mainland. A botanist, Grodin, chipped in with detailed ideas for greenhouses and training local youth to work someplace other than the mess hall and kitchen. Another local, possibly married to an Athosian but dressed differently, chimed in with a proposal for livestock.

"Definitely not," Woolsey insisted.

A biologist advocated recruiting a larger local population to allow for more food production and sustainability. Someone Rodney recognized from passing through the Gate room but whose purpose he couldn't fathom talked about the benefits of diversity in skills and perspectives as well as food sources.

Woolsey cleared his throat loudly from where he sat by a wall—with good back support. "I'll arrange for a committee to look into these options and design a protocol for inviting new residents. In the interest of time, we should move on to the next topic."

Even Rodney recognized that for the evasion it was. Ronon scowled with his arms crossed, but it might not be any more than his usual distaste for Woolsey. Rodney wondered what other locals thought of Woolsey's role as head of the expedition. He saw John slouching with both hands resting on the only Ancient console in the room, and wondered if Atlantis took any notice of their discussion.

Then one of the Athosians asked Grodin about training local youth in technology beyond agriculture and farming, and Grodin said, "You'd have to ask Dr. McKay about that."

Suddenly all eyes were on Rodney. He sputtered, "One of the engineers offered to teach older kids who were interested in detecting and addressing structural and maintenance issues."

"Is that all?" the same Athosian asked.

Waving his arms wide, one hand clutching a cookie, Rodney said, "We're talking about a handful of teenagers. You can't expect me to reinvent the entire university system."

A German chemist, Dr. Klein if Rodney remembered correctly, suggested, "There are long and venerated traditions of apprenticeship in many countries on Earth. There are more labs and project proposals than any of us here have time for. Perhaps we could set up training labs."

"I can barely trust those of you with PhDs from Earth not to blow us all up," Rodney began. Then he tapped on the tablet by his side and reconsidered. "Actually, we might do better than Earth by teaching them here, since SGC and the IOA won't let us correct even egregiously mistaken assumptions about physics in published and peer reviewed papers on Earth. The number of red pens I use each month marking up what passes for educated discourse—"

Carson bumped his knee against Rodney's, bring the scientist back on track. "But opening more labs would require resources and supervision. I barely have enough hours in my day now to prevent the most stupid—"

"Think of all the resources we're wasting and all the Ancient tech sitting around unexplored!" That was a particularly aggravating biophysicist named Peri. Rodney wasn't sure if that was her first or last name, but she was one of the few minions who dared to interrupt him. Or maybe she had one of the few voices strong enough to succeed.

"Look, no one wants new tech more than I do." Rodney set down his cookie and tried to convince the crowd, not one of his strengths. "But some of these devices are one of a kind. We may only have one chance to assess them safely and non-destructively. Those of you who are new may not remember all the pathological and even lethal devices that killed some relatively well educated science staff and others over the years."

Rodney tried as hard as he could not to think of exploding tumors or Doranda, but he heard Carson whispering "blue skies" as he leaned close enough for Rodney to feel his body heat.

Again, Woolsey cut in, "I think this is also best handed over to a committee, while we continue to the next topic."

Rodney's skin crawled, not just from memories stirred up but from being on the same side as Woolsey in any way. He didn't doubt the social reprieve was meant to serve Woolsey's interests more than to rescue Rodney from an awkward confrontation. But even as he calmed down and caught his breath, Rodney couldn't deny that Woolsey had helped him out, just this once.

The next topic involved medical access, and Carson sat up and away when it was his turn to talk about local health ambassadors and how he planned to form a wider network involving various planets across Pegasus. Rodney hardly listened to the words. He was so impressed with his partner's ability to present his ideas and convince others.

#

John listened to Carson speak, not just about local health ambassadors but about assuring everyone who lived on Atlantis received the best medical care possible, both physical and mental. It wouldn't have surprised John if he was biased toward finding Carson's words convincing and his voice soothing. But he looked around and saw the room was the calmest it had been all night.

Despite all he'd been through, or perhaps because of it, Carson impressed John as the most reasonable and empathic person he knew.

Sitting beside him, Rodney looked at least as impressed. The scientist had looked close to zoning or having a flashback by the end of the science discussion, and John was beginning to think that might be related to his strangeness at dinner. John needed a chance to check in with his partners. The puppy pile Rodney suggested before resonated now with John's sense of how to balance the bond they all shared.

The Ancient console he'd been resting his hands against throughout most of the meeting seemed to warm and soften under his touch for a moment. He was pretty sure even the Ancients couldn't have designed their consoles for that. But his bond to Atlantis flared, and he decided not to doubt his bond mate.

#

As soon as possible after the meeting, John returned to Carson's room. This time he didn't in any way mind finding Rodney and Carson huddled together on the couch. Instead, John kicked off his shoes. He was wearing the new, military issue, socks he'd found in his shoes after the community meeting. When he checked out his partners' feet, Carson had the same new socks as John, but Rodney's were gray with different colors of Daleks all over them. John glanced at Carson, who only shrugged. John settled in beside the doctor and stretched an arm around both his partners' shoulders. "Looks like the sock fairy likes you, Rodney."

"I think I'd get in trouble for calling Kusanagi a sock fairy," Rodney grumbled, but he rubbed his feet together appreciatively.

"You sure it was her?"

"Zelenka had pigeons carrying packages on his socks. Kusanagi is the only logical suspect, and she was certainly involved with preparations for tonight."

"Sounds reasonable." The black rope he'd noticed before was still lying on Carson's bed, so John asked, "You want to explain why there's rope on the bed?"

"Earlier, I felt like I might float away, and Carson offered me that to hold onto." Rodney said. "Turned out wearing his loungewear worked better."

"Okaaaay," John drawled.

"I know you specified at the start of this relationship that you never wanted to be restrained or blindfolded, John." Carson turned to face his newest partner more directly and to take his hand, while his other hand traced slow circles around Rodney's knee. "However, the way Rodney created and evolved his straps to hold him tight, made me think he might want to experiment with certain forms of bondage. I don't know if you've seen any of the decorative Japanese forms, sometimes called shibari or kinbaku, or various types of rope corsetry. Some people practice them as an art. For others it is the pressure and sense of being securely held that matters most. If you ever decide you're interested, I'd be happy to help you explore either tying or being tied."

"I'd like to try both," Rodney said, "but tonight I'm happy in your too tight sleep shirt."

"Could I just touch the rope?" John asked.

"Certainly," Carson let go of John's hand.

Picking up the coil of rope, John couldn't help being impressed by how smooth and supple it felt under his fingers. He brought it back to the couch and then slid his fingers through as if interlacing them with another person's hand.

"You like that?" Carson asked.

"Yes." That was as much as John wanted to say on the subject, but he was a bit unsettled by how much he liked the feel of it.

From the far side of Carson, Rodney reached out a hand to tangle his fingers between the ropes as well. "It's smooth for rope, but I'd rather tie the knots than have them tied around me the first time."

"You could tie it around my arm if you want," John said, "So long as you're not tying it to anything."

"You have to be careful about circulation and where you place the knots," Carson said.

"Could you give instructions as I go?" Rodney asked.

"Someone needs to grab the safety scissors. They're in the bottom drawer by my side of the bed."

Rodney was fetching them before Carson finished speaking. When he returned, he sat sideways on Carson's lap and stretched his legs across John's as if it was the only logical place for him to work. As soon as John removed his jacket, Rodney lifted John's left arm, and settled it across Rodney's lap. Then he passed the safety scissors for John to hold in his right hand, and looked expectantly at Carson.

"I'd suggest you start with the center of the rope across John's palm," Carson said in a tone of calm authority. "Pass each end between two fingers so you can start from the back of his hand."

John sighed audibly as Rodney removed and then replaced the rope between his fingers. As with any touch, it felt even better coming from one of his partners.

"Now twist them around each other three times and loop up around his bent elbow." Carson seemed to direct the rope with his eyes as Rodney manipulated it with his skilled, blunt fingers.

John let himself relax back into the couch and appreciate their dual attention.

"Now wrap both ropes beneath his arm and up through one of the twists." As Rodney obeyed, Carson said with a bit of a rough burr, "Very good. Each twist will make a diamond, or a rhombus if you prefer, and then you loop around before separating the next twist. Check that it's not too tight by slipping a finger underneath."

As Rodney made each diamond, he slid a finger between rope and skin. The care behind the gesture warmed John's skin as much as the brush of warm fingers. When all three twists had turned into perfectly balanced diamonds, both John and Rodney stared together at the pattern overlapping his skin.

"Well done," Carson said. "You can tie the ropes off to each other or to the loop on the back of his hand. Or you could lace them back under the pattern you made."

"Could I repeat the pattern on the opposite side?" Rodney asked.

"I don't see why not. You have enough rope." Carson ran one hand lightly over the work Rodney had done, making John shiver, before Rodney looked to John for agreement.

At John's nod, Rodney smoothly set up another three twists that became matching diamonds along the front of John's forearm. Visually, the pattern was stunning, but John regretted the separation from his skin that kept him from feeling each line laid down on the second layer. However, when Rodney tied the end off, John appreciated the even pressure spread over his muscles. He held his right hand, with its usual black wrist band alongside for comparison. "This one feels light and uncovered now."

"But you wouldn't want them tied together, so we'd need another rope," Rodney said. He reached out with both hands and ran one along each of John's arms. On the left, he traced inside the ropes. On the right, he traced the same pattern as if visualizing imaginary ropes just as easily. John could almost feel the imagined ropes. He certainly felt every brush of Rodney's fingers on his skin.

While Rodney remained mesmerized by the pattern he'd created, Carson reached up to stroke each finger on John's left hand. He was almost certainly checking for proper circulation, but for John the touch was as intense as holding hands with their fingers interlaced, something that got to him every time.

"You like that. Good to know." Carson let his fingers settle between John's. "We shouldn't leave the ropes on for too long, and while they're not tight, there may be a pattern for a few minutes after they're removed."

John could feel Rodney's fingers twitch at the thought. "Okay, Rodney, you can untie me whenever you want."

After a few more gentle strokes, mostly on top of the rope, Rodney undid all his work in seconds. Then they all gazed at the faint pattern left behind on John's skin. When it had almost disappeared, Rodney started to trace the lines with one finger. It was like focusing John's entire sense of touch on one moving point. Even when the marks had fully disappeared, Rodney continued to trace the lines over John's skin. Perhaps he could still see them. John could definitely still feel them.

When he felt a surge of appreciation through their bond, it surprised John to find Carson and Atlantis were just as focused in their attention as John and Rodney. They definitely needed to further explore this thing with ropes.

#

The next morning Rodney fabricated two new chimes for the children's center while racing through his work much more comfortably than the day before. He made it to the center well before lunchtime and had a few minutes to watch John giving swim lessons in a cordoned off area beside the southeast pier.

John was wearing his red, white, and blue board shorts and his rash guard. His hair stood up in crazy spikes even while wet, and Rodney couldn't help but admire his muscular shoulders and elegant neck. The man was beautiful even if he wasn't interested in sex.

The kid learning paddle and kick, whom John supported with one hand, was wrapped creatively in what appeared to be a single long piece of fuchsia fabric. Glancing around at the other kids in swim class, most wore either Earth swimsuits or some versions of shorts or underclothing, but two others had the creatively wrapped single piece swimsuits, one in turquoise and one with green and yellow stripes. They weren't all wrapped the same way either.

Spotting someone who might be a parent standing by a pile of towels, Rodney went over and asked, "Hey, do you know where the kids got the brightly colored swimsuits that wrap different ways?"

The parent's eyes tightened as she asked, "Are you Teyla's friend, the doctor?"

"I'm Dr. McKay, yeah, and I was wondering if those swimsuits were for sale in adult sizes, too?"

"I see, you want one for yourself? And you are interested to trade?" The way the woman squinted at him now made Rodney suspect he'd be overcharged, but it was less threatening than her initial appraisal.

He hoped being identified as Teyla's friend counted for something as he nodded and the woman said, "I will let Lun know of your interest. His people mill the fabric for the swim cloths. He often joins the Athosians for morning tea, if you wish to find him."

"That doesn't always fit my schedule, but we'll see." Rodney decided it would be easier to ask Teyla for help than to get up for morning tea or track down this Lun person. He hurried off to see who was interested in music lessons today.

#

John was starving by dinnertime. After the kids' swim lessons, he'd run Marines through calisthenics and then taken a select batch to the mainland for a nature hike some called, "Don't eat, don't touch, don't step." Honestly, it was a lot of fun. But he'd missed lunch, and power bars didn't cut it for such an active day.

He was selecting cornbread and greens to complement his roasted almost-chicken when he heard a shout from the kitchen like he'd never hoped to hear in Atlantis again.

Luckily, he had his side arm.

In seconds, John swung over one end of the serving counter and leapt past the stunned servers, both military and local. He landed in the doorway, pistol drawn, in time to see flames on two sides of the room being smothered by a spray of blue suds from the ceiling. Three cooks were on the floor, rolling to put out fire on their clothing from a moment before. One was clutching his face, the hair beside his ear burnt away. At the far end of the room, the only person standing was Sakish, a young Athosian everyone knew from the chow line. He held a fire extinguisher out in front of him almost the same way John held his pistol.

Both were equally useless as the last flames on the stoves and people's clothing disappeared and the spray of foamy suds from the ceiling ceased. John tapped his radio, "Medical to main kitchen. Three down with possible burns, at least one to the face." His next call was, "McKay, we had a fire in the main kitchen. Need someone to assess cause and damage."

"Anyone in need of immediate assistance?" John hadn't moved from the door. His body blocked others from entering, because he needed more intel first. Two fires in three days was unprecedented, except maybe in the science labs. He wanted to check in with Atlantis but didn't have a good location or the right state of mind to manage it.

"My arm is burned," a civilian John couldn't recognize beneath the blue foam replied.

The words still hung in the air as a side door opened. Carson's eyes darted around the room, meeting John's for a moment. "Any additional hazards I should know about, Colonel?"

"Not that I've identified so far. Try not to touch the stoves or any tech, just in case."

Then Carson and a nurse, Marie, were helping the Marine cook who'd covered his face.

Carson was on the floor, lowering a gurney and saying to Marie, "Burns to face and hands, going into shock." Others who'd arrived with him checked on the two with lesser burns.

John assigned military to guard each door, radioed a quick report to Woolsey, and called across the mess hall for Teyla to join him. He led Teyla to where Sakish still stood, an unused fire extinguisher now dangling from one hand. "Can you tell us what happened here?"

"Um," Sakish's eyes flicked between Teyla and John before he said, "I was starting another batch in the rotisserie." He gestured to a glass walled Ancient device at the back of the kitchen, like a Ferris wheel for roasting meat, still operational behind him. "I heard a swooping noise and felt something, maybe heat, behind me. When I turned around, there were huge flames from all the burners, higher than I thought possible. They reached out and everyone else was on fire. I—It took me a moment to remember my training, about the fire extinguisher. By the time I had it, the rain of foam was putting out all the fire."

Stepping closer to the now shaking Athosian youth, Teyla spoke calmly, "You say the flames were higher than you've seen them before, and you've worked here many moons?"

"Yes, even turned all the way up, the flames shouldn't reach higher than three fingers." He demonstrated with his hand. "And they moved, as if blown forward, but there is no wind in here."

Teyla turned to John, "Perhaps one of the scientist who studies Ancient devices could tell us more?"

"I called for McKay." John was surprised Rodney hadn't shown up in person yet, let alone any other scientists he might have sent. "I'll go fetch him and see what else I can learn on the way. You'll take care of Sakish?" He used a twisting hand gesture his team knew meant to keep an eye on the situation.

"Of course," Teyla replied.

#

Rodney had lost himself in his own private research when John burst into his lab. "Why aren't you wearing your radio?"

"I—" Rodney realized he'd set his radio aside, because he'd needed noise canceling headphones while grinding parts earlier, and hadn't picked it back up afterward. "Guess that's why Carson never called me for dinner."

"Forget dinner." John scowled at the Ancient console Rodney had been using. "While you were busy looking at porn, the kitchen caught fire."

"What? This isn't porn. I'm studying an Ancient medical device." John rolled his eyes, but Rodney was telling the truth, even if his research had been mostly for personal interest and had gotten him a little turned on. Rodney blanked the screen and said, "Focus. What's this about a fire threatening my food supply?"

Running a hand up the back of his neck, John said, "Our food supplies are fine. We've closed the main kitchen while we investigate. Two fires in a row looks a lot like arson, or some sort of Ancient tech issue. That's why I came to get you."

Not having any clue how to check for arson, and knowing each case of Ancient stupidity required new out of the box solutions, Rodney piled some of his favorite Ancient and Earth devices into a bag and added a breathing mask just in case. "I'm ready."

#

John's stomach growled as Rodney grabbed a piece of cornbread on their way through the mess hall. The serving line had run out of that evening's entrée, and John had no idea what had happened to his mostly full tray.

Bumping Rodney's arm John said, "Shouldn't you study what went wrong before eating the evidence?"

"Not at all burnt." Rodney smiled around his mouthful. "Genius requires fuel, especially this genius. And you wouldn't have left the mess hall open if you were worried about it."

While there was grumbling around the room about the lack of almost-chicken, there was no panic and no one shouting questions at John. It made the Colonel appreciate the ability of both civilians and military on Atlantis to roll with the punches after all they'd been through.

Then Woolsey marched out of the kitchen and confronted John inside the serving area. "We've taken that Athosian into custody."

"Excuse me?" John asked.

"The one who works in the kitchen. The only person unharmed by the fire. And once again, we find an Athosian at the scene of the crime." Woolsey tapped his foot.

"We don't even know if there's been a crime, and who exactly took him into custody?"

"I ordered Chuck and Teyla to escort him to the central meeting room for further questioning." As Woolsey spoke, Corporal Gamal, who'd been guarding the mess hall entrance to the kitchen, met John's eyes and nodded, implying Woolsey had tried to order the military to do it and they'd refused his orders, hopefully without incident.

"McKay, can you investigate the scene and send me data as soon as possible. I need to accompany Woolsey to the meeting room." John didn't want to provoke an incident with Woolsey, certainly not in front of the whole mess hall.

"But I might need your natural ATA gene and you know, skills," Rodney whined.

John hated to dump this on Rodney, but he trusted Atlantis would keep the scienctist safe and respond to his ATA gene and their lesser bond as well as she could. "Look, Carson's busy, but the guards at the doors can call another natural ATA carrier. They'll get you anything you need. Understood, Corporal Gamal? Get Dr. McKay any military help he needs, on my orders."

"Yes, sir."

#

Half an hour later, John wanted to bang his head against the wall. He settled for rubbing the back of his neck.

Woolsey had just insisted on calling his newly appointed immigration committee to hear the case against Sakish.

"This committee is made up of you and two staff who report directly to you?" John asked.

"Chuck Higginson knows as much about Gate travel and has been here as long as anyone on Atlantis," Woolsey began, and John had to give the expedition leader credit for knowing the guy's last name, since John wasn't sure he'd heard it in seven years on Atlantis. "Moira Byatt is in charge of general accounting and resource allocation."

"Okaaay," John stalled, "but I’m not sure how they're relevant to Sakish or our current investigation, and we're going to need some other skill sets before that's a committee."

Before Woolsey could even open his mouth, Teyla spoke from her seat beside Sakish, "In mediation, it is customary to balance those with affiliations to different parties involved. I could call a few more Athosians or other Pegasus natives, and someone could nominate other kitchen staff and perhaps scientists who study Ancient technology or fire issues?"

"I'm here, and I have a preliminary report from a safety engineer." Rodney marched into the room with his bag full of devices, a huge mug of coffee, and a covered plate. He pushed the plate in front of John saying, "Your door guard evidently saved your dinner when you rushed in guns blazing. Nice way to respond to a fire."

John wasn't going to eat in front of others who might not have had dinner, no matter how loudly his stomach growled, but he was definitely going to remember Gamal at review time.

Ronon, who'd evidently been standing just outside the door leaned in to catch Teyla's eye. "I'll do it."

"Excellent," Teyla smiled thinly, and John could almost see her pulling a plan together. "I nominate Ronon for this mediation and the newly formed immigration committee as well as Tanok, an Athosian well versed in local adoption customs. I will need to consult others about committee nominees in general."

"I'm not joining any committee," Rodney sputtered. "I'll ask Zelenka if anyone from science has time for that. I'm here to report on the kitchen. Why are we talking about an immigration committee?"

"We've had two cases of arson involving Athosians," Woolsey finally managed to speak.

Rodney snorted. "My data suggests we've had two cases of Ancient tech putting out fires that were not set with any known incendiary device or through any identifiable sabotage of tech present at each location. If any of the Athosians can manage that, we might have someone worthy of this university level program I'm supposed to develop. Honestly, I'd be surprised if any of our science staff could manage it. Records show gas forced its way through the cooking units in the kitchen at levels higher than tolerances should have allowed. The safety engineer on call couldn't find a cause. I have structural and plumbing inspections in progress, but I'd be very surprised if they find anything. Sorting through Ancient code and all our add-ons will take longer. I've assigned two programmers who hate each other to look that over—to assure there won't be any collusion and so they might try harder to outdo each other. Basically, we have a malfunction of Ancient tech that may or may not be related to what happened on the east pier. No actual data supports any person on Atlantis, Athosian or otherwise, being involved."

"Sounds like a case for Sherlock Holmes," John teased.

Rodney bounced excitedly, "There's a new BBC series called _Sherlock_ on our servers. Just three movie length episodes so far, but I've heard good reviews if you want to watch it."

"Sure," careful not to let this look too personal in public, John said, "that should make a great team movie night. I'm sure Teyla and Ronon would love to learn about another Earth icon."

"I am certain it will be most educational." Teyla wasn't even trying to pretend she meant that, at least not to John's ears. "Does this mean Sakish is free to return to his home and family?"

"I don't see why not," Rodney said, eyeing John's food as if he'd steal some if the plate wasn't covered.

"On behalf of the military, I have no objections." John kept his body language as open as possible while waiting for Woolsey's reply.

"Fine, he can return home for now. But I reserve the right to have his case reviewed by the immigration committee."

"I will let you know tomorrow who besides Ronon will represent native populations and when they might be available to meet." Teyla rose from her chair and motioned Sakish out of the room ahead of her.

John clapped his hands. "If we're done here, I have dinner to reheat."

With a huff Rodney said, "I guess I'll check in on my minions and see if the poultry that was still cooking has been declared safe to eat." The scientist left the room muttering about the possibilities for dessert and John didn't miss his chance to escape from Woolsey as well.

#

By the time Carson made it home, Rodney was freshly washed, plugged, strapped and more. He'd pulled on a pair of black silk shorts while he sat at the Ancient console in Carson's room, digging deeper and deeper into files buried beneath Ancient medical research. "Carson, I have the best proposal, a way you can help with my research and I can help with yours."

"Does this have to do with the fires?" Carson asked as he set down his things. "I've been treating burn victims all evening, and while Ancient technology may offer them complete recovery without scarring, it is still far from instant or painless. Honestly, I'd rather not think any more about that tonight."

"Not at all. I'm hoping this will help you forget." Rodney waved to the console, "Do you want to start with the science or sex?"

"How about I tidy up and change into something more comfortable while you tell me what has you so excited?" Carson hummed and raised an eyebrow.

Rodney jumped from behind the console to help Carson undress while he told him all about it. "I was curious about the other options on the Ancient sex change machine, because you know, well, you probably knew when you mentioned it. And I found all the files about intersex options, conscious control of fertility, specs for tentacles and remote control orgasms. I'll admit, there were even a few alternatives I hadn't thought of before. Honestly, that was the most surprising part. But a deceptively simple file on training to control orgasms talked about multiple orgasms for people with my anatomy. It turns out, people with penises can learn to not ejaculate during orgasm, if the pressure and timing is just right using two different muscles. I could have multiple orgasms with only minimal softening of my erection in between."

By the time Rodney finished his ramble, he'd stripped Carson out of his jacket and shirt. The doctor had washed his hands and was pulling on his light blue silk pajama top as he said, "I'm not an expert on this, but I believe there are risks from ejaculate being pushed into the bladder or being blocked for too long."

"I know." Rodney was still excited, but Carson swatted his hands away when he tried to help remove Carson's pants. As Carson took his own sweet time swapping into his silk pajama bottoms, Rodney continued to explain. "That's why part of the Ancients' reproductive repair tech included training devices to help people get it right. I don't have to let Ancient tech alter any of my bits. I just added a ring device with muscle stimulator and sensors under my strap." Catching a glimpse of Carson's totally unaroused anatomy as he changed, Rodney asked, "You don't find this idea exciting?"

Carson sighed. "It's hard for me to separate out my concerns as a doctor. Maybe if I looked over the medical documents you mentioned?"

"You don't trust me enough for this?" Rodney's words came out harsher than intended.

Carson stepped in close and wrapped his arms around Rodney's shoulders. At first, Rodney stood tense and unhappy, not sure if he was angry or disappointed. Then his erection, that had failed to flag despite the minor argument, pressed against Carson's hip. Rodney was flooded with desire. While he hadn't been interested in sex the night before, he'd been teasing himself with sexually explicit research for hours today. He dropped his head to Carson's shoulder and admitted, "I guess I could be a bit personally biased. I was going to suggest you experiment with tying me up while I concentrate on this supposed training device. Do you want to tie me to the bed and leave me there waiting while you check through the files I have open? Or would you rather do something else tonight? Maybe I could do something for you since you had such a rough day?"

The warm palm of Carson's hand cupped Rodney's jaw. "Give me a few minutes to think this through rationally as a doctor. Then I promise, one way or another, I'll see that you have a good evening. Whatever else we decide, I have ideas for tying you up that I'm sure we'll both enjoy."

"I'll turn on the nightlight and get the rope," Rodney volunteered. While he definitely wanted to explore multiple orgasms, being forced to wait even when he was desperate still turned Rodney on.

He let Carson go to the Ancient console where Rodney's recent research was still open. Just glancing at the picture of the device currently anchored at the base of his cock gave Rodney a little thrill.

Setting up the nightlight added a soft purple sheen to the still fully lit room. It would also let John know that his partners were up to sexy stuff that he might not want to witness.

Then Rodney pulled out the black rope that he had so far only tested on John. Creating the simple rope pattern along John's arm had been satisfying in a way Rodney hadn't expected. Now he traced one hand along the fibers, trying to imagine how they would feel on his own skin. He experimented with looping it around his palm, twisting three times, and anchoring around his elbow. Doing even that much one handed on himself felt awkward and sloppy compared to wrapping John's arm. When Rodney tried to loop the ropes around and through the first twist, both the appearance and the feel of the rope on his arm were dissatisfying. Maybe bondage wouldn't work for him as self-stimulation.

Instead, Rodney starfished out on his stomach across the bed. His hand holding the rope landed right beside Carson, but the doctor was intent on his reading. To keep himself entertained, Rodney tried to lie still while imagining how to adapt the tentacle option from the Ancients medical equipment to a strap on device he could use on himself or Carson. The Ancient version had incorporated biological components to provide lubrication, so Rodney would need to include a lube reservoir in his. The same crystal chip set could provide mental control, but there wouldn't be the same tactile feedback for the user as with an actual tentacle sex change operation. It would be more like using a dildo that could reshape or vibrate with a thought. Rodney imagined plugging himself with such a tentacle and then having it tap like a restless finger when he grew bored. Imagining it tapping against his sweet spot had Rodney fully hard and struggling not to squirm.

He almost jumped straight up from the bed when Carson slid a single finger down his arm.

In his deepest, most commanding voice Carson said, "I've decided to go ahead with this experiment. Use your safe words if at any point you have concerns as a scientist or if something feels wrong. Otherwise, I want you to stay as you are while I tie you to the bed."

Rodney whimpered, he was already achingly hard and ready to hump against the mattress in this position. Which was probably why Carson wanted to keep him that way. He knew Rodney too well.

As Carson looped the smooth rope around Rodney's wrist twice while making a triangle shape beneath his palm, the feel of long cool fingers tying him up was mesmerizing. Bondage felt infinitely better when someone else controlled the rope.

His partner did something to attach the rope under their bed before tying Rodney's second hand the same way. The black rope they had wouldn't be long enough to tie Rodney's ankles as well, but he heard Carson pulling something out of his bottom dresser drawer and then felt a thin strip of cloth loop around his ankle. That drawer held Carson's underwear, socks and ties. It didn't take super senses to identify the cloth around his ankle as a tie, although he realized his hearing had tuned in to identify the drawer and now he was listening as Carson's heartbeat sped up. His partner was turned on by tying Rodney to the bed.

Having learned not to focus too much on any one sense, and knowing how easily he could lose himself in touch, Rodney flicked his eyes around the room. The Ancient nightlight had shifted to green, adding strangely lifelike shading to wooden objects. The regular room lights were still at full brightness, and Rodney thought he must look like a specimen spread out flat for Carson to study.

As Carson settled astride Rodney's ass, it was clear how the sight affected his partner. The doctor's erection slid against his cleft over two layers of silk and Rodney's strap. When Carson rocked his hips, the plug inside Rodney shifted as well. "Now that you're settled, I thought we could test your responsiveness before and between each potential orgasm. Try to identify each letter or symbol I trace on your skin."

Rodney groaned. Leave it to Carson to take his research excuse to the next level and make a scene out of it.

The first letter traced on Rodney's left shoulder was "c". He said it aloud, and Carson responded with, "Very good."

It was a little hard to differentiate the "o" drawn next on his right shoulder. The "n" on his left hip and the "t" on his right were easy, and Rodney said, "You're spelling 'control', aren't you?"

"It was the obvious choice, with your strap, the ropes, the device to let you have dry orgasms. I wonder how that would feel for me with your cock in my mouth?" Rodney moaned and shifted the little bit he could to thrust down against the bed.

"But for this first time," Carson continued, "I want to see if you can come in this position. I can shimmy these silk shorts down a bit."

Carson took his time shifting the one item of clothing Rodney was wearing back and forth, pressing and rubbing against Rodney's ass and cock with each tug. Carson kept his weight on Rodney's ass and then the tops of his thighs, barely shifted back far enough to pull the shorts all the way below Rodney's strap. Then he snapped the strap loose and slid it out from under Rodney, and the scientist's bare cock rutted against their high thread count duvet cover until Carson grabbed both cheeks and pressed his weight forward, pinning Rodney to the bed.

"Try not to move. You're the experimental subject this time, remember." Then Carson eased the butt plug out and pushed one long finger in, relying on the lube already inside.

The plug Rodney had used wasn't large, and his hole closed around Carson's finger tightly but without any real burn. "Wiggle your fingers for me, Rodney."

While he could still feel all his fingers and they were warm enough, Rodney felt strangely detached from that part of his body. Nonetheless, he wiggled them until Carson said, "Well done. Now wiggle your toes."

Toes didn't seem quite so distant perhaps because Carson was sitting closer to them. As Rodney wiggled his toes he was very aware of Carson's ass resting on his leg muscles. That kept Rodney pointing and flexing his toes even after his efforts were pronounced, "Very good."

Then Carson slipped a second finger inside and went straight to massaging Rodney's prostate. "Let's see how this sort of stimulation interacts with your multiple orgasm device. Feel free to tell me how you're feeling and when you're ready to come."

"Good," was the only semi-coherent word Rodney could produce. Then he settled for panting in time with Carson's strokes. The sensations were so intense that Rodney couldn't keep his eyes open to study the now golden highlights on the wooden dresser in front of him. Instead, he listened to Carson's heartbeat, fast, but not nearly as fast as Rodney's own. He breathed deeply, taking in the grassy smell of their laundry detergent, but he couldn't help smelling his own arousal and Carson's. There were drops of precome leaking from Rodney's cock. He really hoped the Ancient device worked, because he couldn't hold out much longer and didn't want what he was feeling to end.

"I'm—I'm." Rodney couldn't finish the thought.

Carson kept up the rhythm and pressure from his fingers as he said, "You're what? You're ready to come, see how good it feels to have this and hope you can have more very soon? You want to feel yourself pulse with nothing coming out? See how much pleasure your body can feel doing something you never thought was possible?"

The words, the touch, the sound and scent of Carson pushed Rodney over the edge. He pulsed. And pulsed again. And there was a rippling sensation and the sort of relaxation and floaty feeling that came after orgasm.

But Rodney was still hard, at least three-quarters hard. The duvet beneath him had a damp spot, but only from precome. Every nerve ending in Rodney's cock told him he was ready for more. The rest of his system might need a moment to reboot, but just knowing he could go again was a total turn on.

Carson twitched his fingers before pulling them out and Rodney's whole body bucked against the ropes.

"Give me a color, Rodney."

"Green."

"Tell me what I'm tracing on your back."

It took Rodney a while to answer not because his sense of touch wasn't strong enough. If anything, his skin was translating every touch, every breath of air, into pleasure. But the part of his mind that recognized letters and symbols was pretty close to off line.

Eventually he answered, "b".

"Rodney, are you in subspace?"

The best answer Rodney could manage was a shrug, which was limited by the ropes holding his arms.

"Okay, I'll take care of you. Instead of having you name letters traced on your skin. I'll adjust to make my own observations. You are lovely to observe." Carson ran a hand across Rodney's ass and gave him a playful swat. It seemed to sweep right through to Rodney's cock and he yelped. "First I need to untie your feet and roll you over." When Rodney whined, Carson said, "Trust me, you'll appreciate a new position. I'll leave the ties wrapped around your ankles, and I can flip the ropes at the top."

Rodney didn't bother picturing how Carson might have set up the ropes. It was enough to know his lover had a plan and would take care of everything. He rubbed his cheek against the bed as he waited. The duvet cover felt both smooth and rough at the same time. It made Rodney's skin seem fuzzy and insubstantial.

"Listen to me Rodney." Carson's voice was warm like hot chocolate. Rodney could almost feel the drink in his mouth. He swallowed as Carson helped him roll to his back. "I've turned off the room lights. There's only the nightlight left if you want to open your eyes."

Letting his eyelids relax and open only caused them to flutter, letting in flashes of red tinted room.

"I'm going to tuck ties like those that were around your ankles under the ropes on your wrists. I think this rope might be too rough for your skin. We can experiment with alternatives later, but I suspect you'd like to keep your wrists bound for now."

Rodney hummed his agreement. Carson's deft fingers smoothing cloth along his wrists became a feather light touch tracing down his arms. Rodney felt his muscles flutter the way his eyelids had in response.

"You are gorgeous like this and clearly tracking my fingers very well," Carson's voice was as soft as his touch. "Relaxed and letting me do whatever I want. But your cock is fully hard again. I wonder what you'll feel when I stroke it like this. But first, I want every other inch of your skin to appreciate my hands on you."

Until that moment, Rodney hadn't been aware how hard his cock had become. Now he could feel the tautness there and also how stiff and erect his untouched nipples were. In fact, every hair follicle on his arms and head felt erect and sensitized. It could have been too much at once, but Rodney was floating in a warm haze of pleasure. It was how he felt after an orgasm combined with how he felt before one.

Carson's fingers drifted over Rodney's nipples and he was coming before he knew what hit him. His cock thrust into empty air, damp but not erupting, pulsing but not emptying. He fell again, but failed to hit the ground. He was flying. His heart racing, pumping blood and oxygen to everything.

His cock twitched, still more than half hard.

"God, that was beautiful," Carson whispered. His fingers spiraled outward from Rodney's nipples like magnets pulling him toward their touch. "Still very responsive," Carson said before his warm mouth enveloped Rodney's cock.

The feeling was velvety but wet. Rodney didn't have words to describe it. He would have worried he couldn't take any more, but he trusted Carson to take care of him. His cock was filling fast in Carson's warm heat. Carson' tongue traced the nerve on the underside and swirled around the crown.

There were noises, and Rodney realized he was babbling. He didn't think he formed real words.

As Carson started to suck harder and deeper, Rodney heard himself panting and screaming with each suck. Something was building between them, connecting them, one and the same with shared sensation. Rodney felt inside out. He didn't know if he was going to come again or dissolve into blissed out pieces.

Then Carson picked up the rhythm, focused just on the crown, intense and fast, over and over. One suck all the way down until he was swallowing around Rodney's cock, and Rodney was coming, pulsing, flying apart, but not quite all the way. A strangled scream left Rodney panting, satiated, desperate, unsure of who he was.

"Rodney." That was Carson's voice. Carson was safe. Strong. Loving. How much he loved Carson. "Rodney, you're going to come one more time. Your reactions to touch are less specific now, and this time I want to take off your device so you can let it all out. You have one choice if you want it. Would you prefer me inside of you or riding you?"

"Inside," Rodney said without knowing if he'd even thought about it.

"Alright. I'll need a moment to set up. How are you feeling?"

Rodney felt Carson's finger circle above his hip over and over, like rings sinking into his flesh. "Circle," Rodney finally said.

"Very good. You're doing very, very good." Then Carson's slick finger traced down Rodney's cleft and deep inside of him.

The pleasure grew. Rodney opened himself to it. Experienced it as part of himself and Carson. Something rocked inside of him and it was Carson. Rodney wanted it to continue forever.

"I don't think I can hold on that long," Carson said. Warm fingers squeezed Rodney's nipples, pulling more pleasure from somewhere. Somewhere unknown.

Carson leaned down to kiss him. Swept his mouth, tongue, teeth. Kissed until Rodney's mouth, like the rest of him, was both open and full. Rodney was panting.

"I'm close, Rodney. What do you need?"

As his back arched, Rodney felt Carson's slick hand on his cock and his mouth at the spot on his neck where Carson marked Rodney as his.

An irresistible sucking, pounding rhythm pulled Rodney in all directions. Pulled him apart. Harsh, guttural sounds came out of his throat. Come splattered across his trembling, bucking body. Carson was coming inside, his own sounds breathless but continuing the rhythm. Keeping them together. Everything felt so good. He hoped Carson felt it, too.

At some point, Carson rearranged him. Rubbed his wrists. Ran a wet cloth over much of his body. Tucked him in beneath clean, sweet smelling sheets. Sheets that also smelled of cocoa butter and Carson. The shifting colors of the nightlight faded without notice. Rodney felt Carson curled warmly beside him before he finally fell asleep.

#

John went to visit his hug machine and sensed by the way Atlantis fluttered the door to his safe space that the nightlight was activated next door. He'd seen enough of what Rodney was researching before the fire to know there were multiple options involving the Ancient medical device commonly called the sex change machine. It wasn't hard to imagine what fantasies that stirred in Rodney's mind, whatever his initial reasons for looking into it.

Not that any of it was John's business, but he couldn't forget Rodney asking if John would still like him as a robot or admitting that he didn't want to be called "boy." So long as the scientist wasn't studying the device looking for ways to "cure" John's asexuality—and John was almost certain Rodney would know better by now—he was fine with whatever Rodney wanted with that machine.

John patted his own machine, the one that let his bond mate hug him, and settled in for some quality time together. A light like the sun bloomed around him as warm air inflated bags to hold him tight. The pressure adjusted to comfort him better. Faded in and out minutely, as if to squeeze and cuddle. Supported his neck. Pressed against his hand.

The giant crystal, like a multicolored translucent iceberg, that sometimes guided him and sometimes floated beside him, instead formed around him this time. John was still held as securely and gently as ever before, but he was gazing out through layers of crystal. In the control chair, he had come as close as he could to seeing through his bond mate's eyes.

This was something different.

The crystal was part of his bond with Atlantis, part of their structure. Now John was fully part of that structure and it was still perfect. Exactly itself and as it should be.

John would have laughed, but within his crystal the laugh was transformed. It was vibration. Data. Communication. The crystal, the bond, Atlantis, and John all laughed as one. They all thought it was ridiculous that anyone would try to use an Ancient device to fix him. John was exactly who and what he needed to be. A perfect fit. Loved.

Scattered across the many facets of the crystal surrounding him, John saw isolated images from the last few days. They showed him nothing he didn't already know, but there was a slight sense of worry accompanying images of smoke from the lab on the east pier. Fire. Then three injured people lying on the floor of the main kitchen. Sakish in custody with Woolsey looming menacingly larger than life.

At that there was a shift in feeling to resentment and disappointment, accompanied by several pictures of Woolsey, some going back over a month to when Woolsey interrogated Carson through a speaker set up in the infirmary. That was the first time John had ever known Atlantis to initiate action against Woolsey. She had played the audio unasked, in order to summon John and Rodney to protect Carson and stop Woolsey.

John wondered if Atlantis had somehow brought Rodney to the meeting today at a desirable time to derail Woolsey's accusations against Sakish and the Athosians in general.

Now the image of Woolsey grew smaller. There was a scent like bread dough and an almost minty spice John didn't recognize. Associations John didn't share suggested Woolsey was a child who often upset Atlantis but who could be kept out of trouble and taught to do better.

The crystal around John's hands shifted until he saw himself and his bond mates positioned at the vertices of the diamond he'd envisioned before. This time the bonds along the outside formed a fence like a forcefield. The smaller version of Woolsey was contained inside. John wondered why Atlantis saw Woolsey as a child when he was older than John, Rodney, or Carson. But Woolsey hadn't been in Pegasus as long, didn't have the ATA gene in any form, and fundamentally didn't understand Atlantis. As John wondered if he really understood Atlantis, a series of images surrounded him once again, as if projected onto different facets of his crystalline structure.

There was the newly opened residence building the way it was now, tidy and occupied by mostly Athosian families. Then there were images filled with loud children running and leaving mess and havoc in their wake. Images of overflowing gardens, play areas, or scaffoldings in the central courtyard. Images with different people in many different styles and colors of clothing singing or watching with every window filled above the courtyard. Several of the images included Teyla, her family, and sometimes Ronon.

None of the people looked like Ancients, and many didn't resemble any Athosian or Earth populations John knew. He understood these were suggestions for the future even as more buildings appeared all around him, sometimes projected in front of or behind different possible options. But every image showed more people and activity than Atlantis supported now. Greenhouses, robots that cleaned solar panels, manufacturing labs, and some sort of fishing boat that might also be a robot appeared in scattered images.

Far in the back was the image of Woolsey safely contained within the diamond formed by Atlantis, Rodney, John, and Carson. The message was clear, although John wasn't eager to share it with anyone from Earth. They'd definitely wonder if he was compromised, if not insane.

The scents around John shifted to something like ozone and electricity. The images around him were replaced one by one with stars, until he was a giant crystal floating in space. Then the images gradually shifted away or behind him, as if he was flying. There was no feeling of wind or pressure from acceleration. While he would have to be traveling fast to see stars shift, the scale was so vast that the flight felt graceful and calm, like a glide through space.

It was possible crystals didn't experience time the way John usually did. His session in the hug machine stretched on and on. What he saw was so far beyond his experience that he didn't feel a need to remember or control anything. He relaxed and enjoyed the ride. The way his bond mate held him went beyond skin and flesh. John was permeated, part of something more.

When John finally climbed out of the hug machine that night, he knew the nightlight in his partners' room had been turned off. But he didn't feel like joining them.

Back in his own L-shaped room, John went to bed with Ancient earbuds babbling words he couldn't understand but recognized as right. The tube for his mouth tasted slightly sweet, like custard, while the scent he breathed was the Ancient homey spice he couldn't quite pin down as savory or sweet. This time it settled like a layer on top of the custard taste, something like crème brulee.

The final two cables rolled softly behind John's ears before circling at his temples. As he relaxed they slid back to circle above his ears, then up along his hairline. The bit of hair that brushed his face almost tickled, lighter than the lightest touch he could prepare for. In this moment with Atlantis, that touch felt intimate. To fall asleep with Atlantis filling his senses, reaching all around his face, neck, and head, was an act of trust he couldn't imagine with anyone else. After being encased in the crystal of their bond, it was easy to relax and enjoy with Atlantis.

#

After their morning jog and a quick check-in with a team returning from one of the largest markets in Pegasus, John and Ronon joined Carson and Rodney for breakfast. "Looks like we've got a lead on the Tuaouns," John said. "Trading hours just wrapped up at the Solu Market, and Ivanov's team came back with a Gate address."

Rodney speared two bites of berry pancakes onto his fork and nodded as if he barely heard.

"We'll meet at the Gate for a follow up mission at 1300. Got that McKay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

John shook his head in wonder at how spacey his friend was today, but at least he looked relaxed. John didn't need to ask why, although he hadn't seen Rodney so affected by sex in a while. Not that he wasn't feeling pretty great himself after the night he'd had with Atlantis.

When he noticed Ronon studying him he asked, "What? Do I have something on my nose?"

Ronon grunted and raised his chin toward Rodney.

"Nothing to do with me," John answered honestly. He noted Carson's sly smile.

But Ronon stretched his neck side to side and looked between Carson, Rodney, and John. "Whatever." Then the Satedan picked up his tray and walked away.

He was immediately replaced by Teyla who seemed to be eating some kind of grain and seed salad for breakfast. "Good morning, nice to see everyone looking so happy and relaxed. I trust you all slept well?"

Suddenly, John wondered if his experiences with Atlantis were somehow connected to what happened between their other bond mates. He'd been seeking a way to invite both Carson and Rodney into the hug machine, and sensed they needed to build their four-way bond. But John hated thinking about how he knew such things. It would have been easy to ignore the latest if he didn't trust both Ronon and Teyla to spot what he missed. Instead of following that train of thought further, John replied, "Great. We have a mission at 1300 to hopefully chase down the Tuaouns."

Teyla dipped her chin as she finished a bite of salad. "Understood. Meanwhile, I could use some help preparing for Woolsey." She started questioning them about immigration laws on Earth and what might work for Atlantis. John found himself conveying the gist of what Atlantis had shown him without giving anything away.

#

The Tuaouns were rumored to have joined the Lonouns in a community several miles from the nearest Gate, so Rodney convinced John to take a Jumper.

"More geothermal," the scientist said from his co-pilot seat. As they flew over the settlement, the Jumper was fully cloaked. "There are active volcanoes nearby, but readings don't suggest significant short term danger."

"It is not uncommon for people from different planets to have cultural and kinship ties with people who live in similar circumstance," Teyla volunteered.

"Preliminary scans don't show anything comparable to the Tuaouns pipe system," Rodney continued.

"Maybe they'll want to trade for metal or pipes," John spoke casually, as if he didn't care, "but let's see what they say about Oluah first."

As soon as the Jumper was settled behind a rock outcropping and John opened the back, Rodney started to gag. The smell like rotten eggs had Rodney gasping out, "Hydrogen sulfide. Too strong. I'll stay in the Jumper."

John glanced back over his shoulder. "Ronon and Teyla, could you do a preliminary security assessment and give me a moment with McKay?"

"Of course," Teyla said.

As their teammates headed out, John moved closer until Rodney's shoulder pressed against John's, and he said, "We might need you to talk plumbing or volcanoes with these people, and I don't want you left behind in the Jumper. You've been able to focus in on scents before, maybe you could reverse that and focus this one out?"

Rodney tried. Before whatever happened to enhance his senses, he'd been excellent at tuning out his environment when he wanted to concentrate on something else. Now he tried to focus on other scents. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Rodney naturally tilted his head toward John, who smelled a little sweaty, but not stressed today. Whatever he used on his hair reminded Rodney of fresh cut grass and rosemary—and burying his face in John's pillow when the crazy military man left early to jog. If he could stay close to John, Rodney thought he could focus on those smells enough not to gag on the hydrogen sulfide.

John jerked away just before Ronon thumped in the back saying, "Got company."

The scientist stowed his tablet and life signs detector in his tac vest and followed the Colonel out. They made their way around the big rock they'd parked behind, and that Ronon was crouched atop, as Teyla addressed someone with, "Greetings. My name is Teyla Emmagen."

"I am Sonolute. It is odd to find outsiders here." The man wore only a cloth around his hips and carried a long stick that was sharp on one end, but appeared to be nothing but wood.

"We come to discuss trade and perhaps locate people from Tuaou," Teyla said.

Sonolute spent several seconds rolling his lips forward and back in what Rodney could only guess was a local thinking gesture. "How many are you?"

"Four," Teyla introduced the rest of them, and Sonolute agreed to take them back to town.

Rodney stayed close to John, with his hair that smelled like nothing local, as the planet's smells only grew worse closer to town.

#

The settlement seemed to be full of rotting garbage and smellier than usual humans. John wondered if the locals had all lost their sense of smell from living surrounded by the odor of rotten eggs. He kept close to Rodney, letting their hands and shoulders brush occasionally, and hoping he hadn't made a mistake in dragging his friend away from the Jumper.

While there were several stone buildings of neat or even ornate design, John noticed the unpleasant human smells came mostly from groups camped under roughly built shade roofs, often with only one or two walls. There were people lying prone, displaying festering burn wounds and with belongings stacked in piles. It was easy to guess these were refugees from Tuaou, but nobody spoke as the team passed. They watched but avoided eye contact.

Sonolute led them to a naturally higher area of nearly white stone, like a platform, where a dozen others dressed as he was and some with larger cloths draped over their shoulders stood waiting. Some of those with cloths across their shoulders also had hands wrapped the way Oluah's had been when they found her.

"What do you want?" One of those waiting asked.

Rodney muttered, "That's not creepy at all, like the Shadows' agents in Babylon Five."

When John hesitated, Teyla stepped forward to cover Rodney's words. "Greetings. My name is Teyla Emmagen. My teammates and I came to discuss trade and perhaps locate people from Tuaou," Teyla said.

A woman in the crowd, one with a torn up shawl of sorts answered, "I am recently arrived from Tuaou, but I do not recognize any of you."

Teyla nodded. "Unfortunately, we came to Tuaou after you had left. There appeared to have been a volcanic eruption. If you are in need of medical assistance or emergency supplies, we could trade based on future considerations."

John saw Rodney stepping away, toward a pile of pipes, and caught his elbow in one hand. This wasn't a good time for wandering off.

"What?" Rodney asked. "They clearly salvaged those from Tuaou. Look at the lighter mud and ash caked on the ends. They're planning a new pipe system. Hopefully not here." The scientist didn't glance up or stop talking as all eyes fixed on him and everyone else fell silent, but clearly he was aware of his expanded audience. "You know the water is coming out from much deeper here than on Tuaou. It's hotter at the source, which will be harder on the pipes even aside from the additional dissolved minerals. Obviously, you don't want to pipe in more of the gas we can smell or whatever we can't. But I could help you find a better source for piped water, and we should really talk about emergency shut down procedures. The system on Tuaou required each lever to be set to open separately, and the kid you left behind only knew how to respond to pressure gauges, assuming they were all working."

Suddenly there were gasps and whispers all around them. John knew before Rodney finished speaking that he'd said too much. Keeping his hand on Rodney's elbow to ground him, John hissed, "Be quiet and listen."

#

Not liking John's suddenly tight hold on his arm, Rodney nevertheless focused his hearing rather than complaining.

"He understands our pipe controls."

"The firebug is no longer contained."

"It could be here."

"He knows about pressure gauges, and adding a lever for emergency shut down is a good idea."

Rodney zoomed in on that last voice as the most intelligent among the locals. But it seemed those around her were far too superstitious to listen or learn.

"He's a fool if he went in with the cursed one."

"We just escaped the firebug curse. Send them away before it's too late."

"Our home is destroyed. Maybe the curse is done."

"Ask if the fires followed them to their home."

"Would they be here offering help if they had?"

"Sometimes it takes months."

"We have nothing to trade and should barter no debt."

"Send them away before it's too late."

Finally, Rodney had had enough. "What do you mean by firebug?"

"He knows!" someone shouted and pointed.

"Obviously, he overheard and is asking to learn more," the one Rodney had pegged as most intelligent said. She looked relatively young and skinny, and Rodney wondered if she'd once been a child left to tend the pipes like Oluah. The determined young woman looked across the expanse of white rock and came as close to making eye contact as anyone there had. "If there's only one survivor after a fire, chances are they've got the firebug. Either they keep starting fires they can see but survive, or they get upset and scare the firebug out of them and into someone else. The pipe room had nothing to burn in sight and no exposure to other people, so that was a safe job to contain those with the firebug for a while, but no one's figured how to get rid of it forever."

An older woman cut in harshly. "It was our curse to bear, until Tuaou destroyed our homes. Now the curse is either gone or passed to them. We must send them away!"

"They could help with the pipes," the more rational one said.

But more voices urged, "Send them away."

Teyla's words broke across the others with a tone that could make even Rodney shut up, "Do none of you want the child, Oluah, back? She is healthy and safe, but she misses her people."

"They have taken the curse upon themselves. Send them away."

Others took up the demand, "Send them away."

Sonolute picked up his sharpened spear and waved it in their direction.

Rodney muttered, "You'll all die of toxic fumes and unsafe pipes, but go right ahead and cling to your stupid prejudice."

As four more locals with sharp sticks or stone knives approached, John tugged Rodney's arm and said, "How about we go quietly?"

Rodney didn't have breath to protest as their escort chased them out of town much faster than they'd entered.

#

Back on Atlantis, John told Woolsey during debrief that he needed to use the control chair to check if "firebug" might be a local name the Ancients had recorded for any known phenomenon. He ignored Woolsey's protests that they'd taken in an arsonist and let Rodney explain how that was stupid and didn't fit the data any better than the locals' story about a curse.

After that, Rodney was in much better spirits and called Carson to help watch over John in the chair. It was not at all medically necessary, but John breathed a sigh of relief as he sealed the door to the control chair room with all his bond mates inside.

Climbing into the control chair was like easing into a customized recliner on Earth, and John wondered how he'd ever thought the seat uncomfortable. His bond tugged at him before his hands even settled on their sensor pads. He'd had his moment of reunion with Atlantis after returning through the Gate, but this was the closest they could get to actually talking.

First Atlantis flashed a cheerful rush of pictures, numbers, and symbols across his mind's eye. John didn't have time to process most of it, but he was pretty sure there was a picture of him teaching swimming included.

Then John did his best to share what they'd learned on their mission, especially the parts about the firebug.

Atlantis responded with a barrage of images involving fire, stars, and other glowing energy sources.

John tried to focus on what the young woman had said about lone survivors after a fire passing on the firebug when they were upset or scared. Otherwise, they started more fires, always in line of sight and there had to be something that could burn.

Atlantis showed him Gate room footage of Rodney wearing the personal shield to walk into the energy creature they'd long ago had to lure out through the Gate.

At first, John thought they'd failed to communicate. Then Atlantis showed the energy creature out in space, floating though some luminescent cloud of gas. It was eating swarms of what might have been fireflies, except they were in space. Atlantis zoomed in to show they were little orbs of light, tiny compared to the creature that had drained power all over Atlantis and eventually drained the personal shield that Rodney had found. But as the energy creature gobbled swarms of little orbs, the devourer grew.

John wished Rodney could see it all.

Hearing a gasp and small squeak that was clearly Rodney being surprised, John opened his eyes to see a hologram projected above the chair. It showed the space cloud with the energy creature gobbling up the tiny, glowing spheres.

Rodney's eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open. John was about to apologize when Carson, who'd been standing beside the chair monitoring John, reached an arm out to Rodney. "Too many bad memories, or are you just excited Atlantis is showing us?"

"The latter." Rodney reached out as if he could touch one of the glowing globes. "Is this what Atlantis thinks the firebug is? Is it a smaller version of what we dealt with before? But that sucked energy out rather than igniting fires, which presumably requires introducing some sort of energy."

"I think the larger energy creature feeds on them, the way our energy creature tried to feed off Atlantis and then your personal shield," John said.

"So if we still had that creature, we could have used it to eat this firebug, if it even exists. Sounds like overkill to me." Rodney tapped his finger against his tablet and then turned to the Ancient console across the room "But if the firebug exists and if it is an energy creature, maybe the trap the energy creature here was stored in could trap its smaller prey."

"That's a lot of ifs and maybes," Carson said. "Is Atlantis sure one of those little balls is what we're dealing with?"

"Setting up for scans and further analysis now," Rodney said. "Is there a way to ask Atlantis if she can narrow down my parameters at all?"

John didn't think he'd done anything to communicate the request before Rodney huffed and said, "Great, she widened the parameters, allowed for new dimensions in the math. We should have more than enough time to break for dinner. And weren't we going to watch _Sherlock_ tonight?"

#

By the time John, Rodney, and Carson arrived for movie night, Ronon, Teyla and Kanaan were already seated with popcorn and some very pink beverage in heavy ceramic mugs.

"Hey, what's that?" John asked, waving at the drinks.

"The kids call it lapapa. It was left over from a children's solstice party, but is quite tasty." Teyla motioned to the three mugs set closest to John's usual couch. "Try some. It is a type of mulled fruit juice, not fermented, and not citrus."

Rodney smiled at the last and grabbed a mug before plopping down in the center of the sofa. John didn't hesitate to claim his own drink and his place to one side, with his thigh touching Rodney's.

"Is Torren still at the party?" Carson asked.

"The children are sleeping outside tonight, in the courtyard shared by our dwelling and our community. If Torren wants his own bed, one of the parents hosting will see him inside." Teyla finished her drink and cuddled in beside Kanaan.

He handed her their bowl of popcorn and said, "Most of their celebration centered on sunset and then waiting for the first stars. We were able to see Torren asleep before we left."

"Do you know what spice is in this?" John blurted as he finally tasted the lapapa.

"It was not familiar to me, but I could ask those who hosted the party," Teyla offered. "Do you like it?"

John's mind was reeling. He'd tasted or smelled this spice so many times when Atlantis tried to comfort him. It provided an interesting contrast in the sweet fruit drink, because it retained the shadings of both savory and sweet spiciness that had intrigued John from the start. Belatedly he answered, "Yes, and I think I've tasted it before. I would be interested to find out as much as I could about it."

Teyla nodded, then tugged Kanaan into a more comfortable position. "I will be happy to inquire. Shall we start our movie?"

"It's actually the first episode of a TV series, but it is over an hour long, because BBC has all sorts of odd ideas about series." Rodney finished the last sip of his lapapa and seemed almost as focused on the flavor as John was.

"Heard TVs were an endangered species," Ronon said dryly, although everyone in the room was wise to his games by now.

Nonetheless, Rodney began to sputter. "No, they aren't a species, and biological metaphors are misleading when applied to technology. Anyway, we use 'TV series' to refer to anything with visual as well as audio, so even if dedicated devices called TVs disappeared, the term could still apply to visual broadcasts over air, cable, or internet."

Setting down his mug and picking up their bowl of popcorn, John pointedly laid down with his head on Rodney's lap and the bowl braced on his chest where both Rodney and Carson could reach.

Rodney's hands settled as if by instinct, with one in John's hair and the other on the popcorn. Ronon didn't try to hide his smile at both winding the scientist up and seeing him derailed by John and popcorn. The moment of silence was all John needed to lower the lights and start _Sherlock_ playing. When he felt Carson's hand rubbing his neck and shoulder and saw Teyla doing the same for Kanaan, John settled completely into watching what turned out to be a witty and entertaining show.

#

As the credits rolled, Rodney sighed. "That was the sexiest Sherlock I've ever seen."

"Don't think he cares," John muttered. Rodney was going to protest that he didn't expect a TV actor or a fictional character to care if Rodney found him sexy. But his mind triangulated on what John really meant. That was as close as John would come to saying he read the character as asexual. It fit with Sherlock's explicit denial of having a boyfriend or a girlfriend and considering himself married to his work, but before knowing John, that wasn't a possibility Rodney would have considered. Now the genius measured all the scenes where characters implied Sherlock and Watson might be a gay couple, and wondered if the writers had played on the possibility of asexuality the way earlier writers might have hinted at a character being gay.

Ronon snorted, "McKay wants his brain."

"Hah," Rodney spread his arms wide until they thumped into both John and Carson. "The scriptwriters make genius look easy, and Sherlock should have known who the killer was as soon as he gave the speech about someone who 'passes unnoticed.'"

"And when he said, 'What is it like in your funny little brains?'" Ronon mimicked a British accent.

Rodney was so surprised by the voice impression that he answered honestly, "That did strike a chord, and he was smarter than anyone else around."

"I rather liked Watson," Carson said, "and not solely for his background as a doctor."

"Mrs. Hudson," Ronon chimed in.

Rodney laughed until the big man glared at him.

"I wish we had a consulting detective to help investigate these fires," Teyla said.

She was still wound together with Kanaan, and Rodney wondered if that made John more comfortable remaining with his head on Rodney's lap. After the unfortunate hand gesture where he'd smacked both of his partners, Rodney had returned to stroking John's hair and holding the hand Carson had draped across his shoulder. Carson's other hand rested half on John's shoulder and half on Rodney's thigh. It was comforting to sit like this with their team in the movie room, inside Atlantis.

"I wonder if Lorne's seen this show," John asked without movie his head from Rodney's thigh. "Either way, I'll ask him to put in a hiring request with the job title 'consulting detective.' You never know who they might send."

#

After the movie night, John was eager to check in with Atlantis, but something told him they all needed more than him in the chair tonight. "I have an idea," John said, as they took the transporter to Carson's hall. "But I need your help moving the second hug machine beside mine so we can hook them up together."

To Carson's credit, he didn't hesitate to say, "Alright."

They maneuvered both pods so they were touching, like two twin beds pushed together to make a king size. Both lids opened outward, but there was still a divider at least five inches tall in the center, and if the lids fully closed they would remain two separate spaces. Carson had hooked the second pod up and even found a sort of parallel feedback setting rather quickly, but then he insisted on at least fifteen minutes of safety checks.

While John watched impatiently, Rodney had thrown himself down in the pillow pile and started complaining. "Why do I have to be on top? Not that I mind in certain other situations sometimes." John coughed and Rodney shifted back on topic. "And I was pretty comfortable that one time you had me lie on top of you, but now you want to use me as some sort of bridging cable. That divider in the middle does not look comfortable, and with my back issues, I really think I should be the one lying down in the second pod."

Nudging Rodney with one foot, John cut him off. "Make yourself comfortable on top of me if you want. I think you'll only need a hand or something touching Carson."

"I believe we're ready," Carson announced, "or at least the therapy pods are ready."

John had to climb in from one end, which was different already. Having Carson do the same beside him and then Rodney fuss and squirm on top made John reconsider why he thought this was a good idea. But finally Rodney settled, both an arm and a leg stretched across Carson in the neighboring pod. That felt right.

The pressure of Rodney's body along his and the proximity of all his bond mates helped John relax even before warm air filled the balloons around hi-m and the lids of both machines lowered as far as they could without hurting Rodney.

The simulated sunlight on his face was muted, but the feel of his crystal pressing beneath both his hands settled John as soon as the pressure took shape.

"Oh my," Carson said.

John found himself in woods he'd never seen before. Dappled light passed through pine and fir trees, as did a gentle, fresh-scented breeze. Rodney and Carson were seated beside him on what would have been a large rock, except it was John's crystal, still firmly pressed beneath his palms and fingers.

"The crystal is John's somehow. This tiger's mine." After that introduction, the white tiger batted Rodney's shoulder, without claws, but hard enough to shove him into John. "Or maybe I'm his."

"He's a beauty," Carson said. Rodney's tiger rubbed against Carson's shoulder, and John noticed Carson gave his crystal a tentative pat as well. "Is this similar to what happened before, when you and John used a pod together?"

"Except that time we were in the ocean." Rodney was scratching his fingers deep into the tiger's fur. The tiger accepted that as well as Carson's gentle strokes, as if they were his due. "This is much nicer, although it still feels off to my senses."

John petted his crystal, which he at least partially believed had saved Rodney from drowning in the ocean while the tiger showed John where to dive in for a rescue. He didn't think their appearance in a forest the first time Carson used a pod was a coincidence, and he had spied one other animal the first time they all bonded, when using the control chair. So John was not surprised to see a large black bear come ambling out of the trees. The bear looked a bit unsteady and opened his jaws to produce something between a yawn and a growl. John wondered if he had recently woken from some sort of hibernation.

"Look at that bedhead. You'd almost think the bear was related to John." Rodney jostled Carson as he teased.

The bear definitely growled then.

Rodney leaned back. Carson leaned forward.

The bear stood up on his hind legs and growled again.

"Aren't you glorious." Carson's voice was low and full of awe. "If you're truly here for me, I can't imagine what I could do to deserve your attention."

Dropped to all fours, the bear ambled forward. With a final growl that was barely a rumble, he stood up again and planted his front paws to each side of Carson's legs.

"May I touch you?" Carson asked. He reached out tentatively and clasped the bear where shoulder met neck on the far side, so Carson was touching both the bear and Rodney's tiger while they all sat together on John's crystal. Suddenly the sun seemed warmer and the light brighter. John relaxed as if held tight even as the forest breeze tickled his skin.

"I should have brought you sooner," John said.

Carson leaned forward and turned his head to meet John's eyes, hands still stroking both animals. "You have no idea, John, what a gift you are sharing by bringing me here now. I cannot be anything but grateful for the chance to meet with these fine creatures and your amazing crystal. I only wish I understood better and knew more ways to contribute."

The word 'gift' caught John's attention and reminded him of the holiday celebration coming up in a couple days. This was definitely better than the gift he had for Carson and Rodney, but somehow he wasn't as nervous about that as he had been with Nancy or with his parents while growing up.

"Like you don't do enough," Rodney chided, while John was preoccupied. "You're great. All this is great. But how does this work in place of going back to the chair room to see what Atlantis figured out about the fires?"

Something rattled behind them, and John turned to see an orange tube-shaped device similar to the one that had held their first energy creature on Atlantis. Beside it lay an Ancient scanner with readouts blinking, and Rodney scrambled over to pick it up. "This experience is suddenly much more holodeck."

"Only your holodeck would have Ancient devices appearing in the middle of a coniferous forest." John laughed and reached out to the tiger who lowered a shoulder indicating where John should pet.

"I like the sound of that, my holodeck." Rodney didn't look up from his data as he said it.

Quietly, Carson said to John, "Whatever he wants to believe, I think there's a reason you and I were in each pod, and why these places don't sit right with his senses."

"You know I can hear you without even trying," Rodney said.

"I was only speaking quietly so as not to interrupt your work with theories you might not have time for right now." Carson smiled.

"Luckily I'm a genius. I can multitask. I also need more parts to adapt this device to the specs Atlantis provided."

More parts appeared beside Rodney. John wasn't sure if he played any part in creating this reality, but he was pretty sure Rodney, and maybe Atlantis, were the only ones who knew what materials the genius needed.

Carson teased. "Wouldn't this fit the setting better if you were trying to catch a firefly in a jar?"

At that, a large firefly appeared. Rodney's tiger batted a careless paw at it. Carson's bear rumbled but didn't move from where he still stood in front of Carson. "Don't go messing with my holodeck representations. You and your bear already got me to the woods.

The tiger yowled and shook his head before plopping down for a nap right where Rodney had previously been sitting.

"Guess we owe you a jungle visit," John said to the tiger, still petting his side.

The cat twitched an ear but napped until Rodney announced, "We've got it. Now I need to fabricate this in my lab."

"Tonight?" Carson asked.

"I can set it up using the console and a tablet in your room. It shouldn't take long."

"Famous last words," John teased.

"I'll give you a backrub while we wait," Carson offered.

Carson ended up giving John a very long back rub, and then Rodney demanded at least the short version. But they all ended up cuddled together that night. It wasn't hard for John to imagine— although he refused to admit he sensed them in the real world—that a bear, a tiger, and a crystal cuddled up beside them.

#

When Rodney arrived to teach music lessons the next morning, a man he didn't know greeted him. "Hello, I am Lun. I was told you wanted to trade for clothing from Panonia?" Lun wore a bright yellow shirt, loose orange pants, and carried a stack of similarly festive fabric over his right arm.

"What? Uh, yes, I didn't track you down, but the mom from swimming must have, and now you're here." On the nearest table, Rodney set down the bag of new chimes and other equipment that he'd been carrying. Then he realized he had no idea how people from Panonia greeted each other. But Lun was on Atlantis now, so Rodney held out his hand and said, "I'm Dr. Rodney McKay."

After a long pause Rodney realized the man's right hand wasn't available due to all the fabric he was holding, and offering to shake hands and giving his full name, which the man presumably already knew anyway, had probably been a mistake in ways Teyla would be happy to explain if she heard about this.

Just as Rodney was going to pull his hand back, Lun grabbed it with his left and said, "I heard your people have a gift giving holiday much as my own do at this time of year. So I brought all I had in adult sizes, in case you wanted to choose now."

"Oh, that's actually very helpful. Perhaps you could set them down on this table and show me?"

Lun laid out the swim cloths as if he were fanning a deck of cards. "This fabric comes only from Panonia. We are an island people and harvest a water plant that yields long stretchy fibers when prepared correctly. Artisans dye and weave those fibers into this traditional shape. The proportions are based on the width of a person's hand with fingers fully extended and the length up and down the person's body ten times. I drew you pictures of how my people often wear them, especially for swimming, but they are infinitely versatile and can be worn for any activity. Our cloths are prized because they are quick drying and hold their colors well in sea water or fresh water."

During the patter, Rodney had sorted out a blue and green cloth with a watercolor effect for John and one with longitudinal stripes that shifted colors from orange to red and widths from a couple centimeters to a few threads for himself. He was a little stuck on what to give Carson, who tended toward neutral colors, which weren't really an option. There was one cloth that was a dark charcoal gray, almost black. As Rodney reached for it, a child he didn't know came up and asked, "Are those for dress up?"

Rodney loved the dress up area at the children's center. The clothing was mostly adult size, and people had donated pieces from many Earth and Pegasus cultures. Someone had also knitted fanciful scarves and hats. There were a few old uniforms from Atlantis, SGC, or various Earth militaries as well as lab coats, safety goggles, helmets, and an old stethoscope. Sometimes kids would come to music lessons wearing dress up clothes, and Rodney wondered what it would have been like to have that freedom as a child. Honestly, he would have liked to try on some of the dress up clothes even as an adult, but he didn't want to intrude on the kids' play.

Rodney looked down at the wide-open eyes of the child who'd asked and said, "I'm buying gifts for friends, but I could buy one for the dress up area here. Which one do you think would be most fun to play in?"

The child immediately pointed to the brightest rainbow pattern of them all.

Rodney chuckled and asked Lun, "Do you have any use for our currency? Or is there something you'd like in trade for four of these?"

Lun smiled widely. "Let me gift the one for the children's center. They should have something of my people here." With that, he lifted the rainbow cloth and handed it to the child who ran squealing back to the dress up area. Rodney noticed that Oluah reached a hand out to touch the rainbow cloth and peeked at Rodney from inside a fort the kids had been using to play house. He took it as a good sign that she was settling in and not running or screaming at Rodney's proximity.

"As for trade," Lun continued, "You and I seem to be of about the same size, and I would like to have more shirts of the style your people wear with a line of buttons down the front. Perhaps you have three such shirts you could trade for these three cloths?"

"You mean used shirts I've already worn?" Rodney asked.

"If you deem them good enough to still wear, I am sure I will agree. Unless this is unacceptable to your people?" Lun asked.

"No, I could totally give you three button down shirts. But if you don't need them right away, I could order new ones you like." Rodney pulled the tablet out of his bag and opened a book marked site on the Atlantis web portal from which he often ordered clothes. "This is the size I usually get. You can use your finger to see different styles or the dots at the bottom to see the same shirt in different colors."

"You would order new shirts from your planet for this?" Lun looked hesitant to take the tablet, so Rodney swiped through a few more options.

"Sure, they probably won't come until the next Daedalus mail day. So if you want one sooner, I could give you something I already have."

"Please go back one."

The shirt that had caught Lun's eye was a Hawaiian print, but relatively sedate with patterns of fish and waves. "Could I have that one?"

"Sure," Rodney clicked to put it in his cart. "Do you want to choose two more?"

The rapid glance Lun gave Rodney suggested that smooth salesman though he was, Lun might not have expected to end up with three shirts, and certainly not three he could choose from Earth. But Rodney had plenty of money in Earth accounts and was happy not to have to trade away anything that mattered to him. He waited while Lun selected a very nice pink shirt and a plaid that Rodney wouldn't have worn in a million years. Then Rodney completed the order and set it up in the Atlantis servers to go out the next time they dialed Earth.

"Thank you," Lun said. "Please let others know I am happy to trade with those from any planet."

"I will," Rodney said, adding his purchases to the bag he'd brought for music class. "Now I really should get going. There are kids waiting for me."

As Lun nodded and picked up his wares, Rodney was excited to see all six of the students he'd worked with before gathered in their music area.

#

They had just finished practicing "Do-Re-Mi" or what most people thought of as "Doe, a Deer" when Torren asked, "Can we play Ronon's song with these chimes?"

While Torren could only sing three notes reliably, Rodney suspected the kid had perfect pitch. He was almost always right when he matched a chime to a note he'd heard sung. But Rodney had never heard Ronon sing except at festivals Teyla made them all attend. He had no idea what Torren meant by "Ronon's song." So Rodney turned the question back on his student and asked, "I don't know, can we?"

To Rodney's surprise, two other children started singing a song about birds as Torren removed half the chimes from the set they'd been using for "Do-Re-Mi". He was left with Do, Mi, So, and the new Do Rodney had brought that day to cap the octave, and specifically so he could teach his lesson. Torren and the two others who knew Ronon's song continued to sing as Torren struck a chime to match each bird's call, which seemed to be the pitch at which each bird's name was sung as well.

"The oost sings high <high Do bird call and chime>, the tuno sings low <low Do call and chime>, the rusto <Mi bird call and chime> and dinan <So bird call and chime> sing in between."

The birds' names were in Satedan and didn't translate, but by the second time through, Rodney was convinced Torren was right, the intervals made sense and the tune would fit perfectly if any of the kids could sing a full octave. Rodney wondered if the birds mentioned actually made their calls at the specified pitches. Then he wondered if Ronon would like to hear this song performed at the party the following night.

Rodney asked the kids, "What would you all think of adding this on after the Do-Re-Mi song tomorrow? Do you think Ronon would be surprised?"

After some jumping around and excited agreement, Rodney got them all settled down to practice a bit more, encouraging the one girl who could best hit the high notes to sing them a little louder. But he wasn't going to tell anyone not to sing. He had enough bad music lesson memories to work through from his own piano days.

#

The alert tone Rodney had set up on his tablet and connected to the Atlantis fire monitoring system brought him to a sudden halt.

The kids' singing stammered to a disordered end as Rodney grabbed up the tablet and scanned the details. He tried to force a smile as he said, "I have to go right now, but you keep practicing and we'll try to rehearse once more before the party."

Rodney was out the doors and rushing to the mental health center by the time John's voice came over his radio saying, "McKay to Dr. Gosset's office at the Mental Health Center. Urgent."

#

John was first on the scene.

Private Alonzo lay on the floor. Dr. Gosset was on his knees patting a singed blanket he'd clearly thrown over the Marine to stifle flames. Parts of the couch behind them were still smoking, despite the anti-fire foam splattered about. There was an extinguished candle on the edge of the psychiatrist's desk as well.

"What happened?" John asked.

"I lit a candle on my desk." Gosset gestured to the candle John had already wondered about. "Fire erupted across the room where my client was seated for reasons not clearly related. He leapt up making the flames worse. I told him to hit the ground and reached him with the blanket about the same time the foam fell on us."

Carson arrived with three staff and a gurney during the explanation. He asked, "Any idea why he's unconscious?"

Gosset dropped his voice, "Probably a panic attack. I don't believe he hit his head or inhaled significant smoke. But one moment everything was fine and the next his entire uniform and the couch around him was on fire. It shocked me and would have been much more upsetting for him."

Carson had removed the blanket and was checking the private's body himself as he asked, "Any special considerations for when he wakes up?"

"I don't think so, but someone should be there with him if I can't be, and should reassure him that everyone and everything is fine." With that Gosset stepped back and let Carson and two aides take Private Alonzo away on a gurney. One remained to do a quick check of Dr. Gosset before declaring him healthy and suggesting with a slanted smile that he might want to talk to someone in mental health about his experience.

Gosset gave a very forced smile and set aside the foam splattered jacket he'd removed for the medical check.

At that point Rodney came rushing in, panting. "I have everything set up in my personal project lab. Do you want to question him there or someplace else?"

At Gosset's questioning look, Sheppard raised one shoulder. He hadn't planned to tell whoever started the third fire about the plan to transfer the firebug or energy being to John and then to the container Rodney and Atlantis had devised. He certainly wasn't going to explain that to a military psychiatrist.

There were few people on Atlantis that John would less want to spend time alone with, but he didn't have a choice. "I'll question him in a meeting room."

Teyla and Ronon appeared right behind Woolsey as Gosset said, "There may be questions I can't answer due to confidentiality issues."

John couldn't help but smile, "That's a fine reason to keep this just you and me, going over the facts, and you can find a way to tell me the parts I need to know without violating confidentiality."

For once Woolsey didn't argue or complain. John stood up straight and told the expedition leader, "I'll send you my report the moment it's ready."

Woolsey nodded. "Alright." Then he left, and John seriously had to wonder if Atlantis had got to him somehow, but there wasn't time to pursue that train of thought.

"Teyla, there was only one fire injury this time, Private Alonzo." Teyla tilted her head, and it was clear she knew who he meant as John continued, "It didn't look too bad, but if you could follow up at the infirmary? Let Dr. Gosset and me know when Alonzo wakes up and if he has anything interesting to tell?"

"Of course." Teyla left as well.

"McKay, I'll find you at the lab when I'm done."

Of course the scientist couldn't leave quietly. "I'm going to grab your earbuds. And some food. I don't know how long this will take."

"Why my earbuds?" John asked.

Rodney waved his hands in a frantic circle. "We might need an interface, and I don't want to try this in the chair room." He waved his hands more jaggedly. "Do you want me to explain more? I thought you didn't want me to explain more?"

It was a bit ridiculous, but part of John wanted to keep the earbuds separate from dangerous or unpleasant tasks. They were the closest thing he had to a gift from his bond mate, and they helped him go to sleep or relax. But Rodney was probably right about not trying to trap an energy being near the control chair with a huge power source right under it, and John had no idea how he was supposed to transfer it anyway. "Okay, whatever."

As Rodney hurried away, John turned to Ronon. "You up for guarding a conference room while I speak with Dr. Gosset?"

"Keep everyone out?" Ronon sounded pleased.

"Exactly."

They made their way to an unassuming room John had previously used for interrogations as well as confidential meetings. It had no window, no Ancient consoles, no bubbling columns or other distraction. The walls were light green. The table with four chairs was white.

Dr. Gosset sat facing the door.

John chose a seat between the psychiatrist and the hall that also let him watch the door. It had the added advantage of not making him face Gosset directly. "Can you explain how a Marine caught fire in your office?"

Gosset shook his head. His whole body was tense. "You saw where the candle was on my desk. That was the only flame in the room, and he couldn't have passed his sleeve through it if he tried."

"Were you encouraging him to try that?" John hated the role he had to play, but what the Tuaouns had said suggested Gosset would pass the firebug onto someone else by wanting to get rid of it, by wanting to avoid further fires.

"No, but I can't say much more." Gosset looked concerned, but not anxious or upset.

"Can you tell me why you were lighting a candle in the first place?"

"No."

"It's the only plausible weapon in what would be an arson or assault investigation."

"And I'm telling you it never came within arm's reach of Private Alonzo." Gosset spoke a little louder, but he didn't seem angry. If anything, he sounded more steady.

"Then how did he catch on fire?" John slapped a hand on the table.

"I wish I knew."

"Is there anything else you did that could have caused it?" John asked pointedly.

Gosset stared at him. John tried to stare back.

Then Gosset raised his eyebrows and said, "If you're trying to upset or anger me to gather more information, remember I have both psychiatric and military training. And I'm not the bad guy here. I'm not sure what happened, but I'm one hundred percent on your side for figuring this out."

John started to rub his neck and then wondered if that would give too much away to a psychiatrist. Of all the people on Atlantis, John wasn't sure how he was supposed to get the firebug out of this man and into him.

Gosset leaned forward, meeting John's eyes again. "Look, Sheppard. I realize I make you uncomfortable, and I may not know all the reasons why. While I would strongly advise anyone in your position to consider talking to me or one of the other therapists occasionally, I'm not trying to analyze you or dig into any of your secrets today. Whatever you're trying to get from me, you might as well ask."

John wished he was in the chair right now, or that he had his team to consult. If it was possible for someone to intentionally push whatever caused the fires out of themselves and into someone else, then a psychiatrist should be the most likely person to manage it. But it seemed much more likely that Gosset would think John was crazy. Then again, the man had been on Atlantis for a while, and both Lorne and Carson had vouched for his commitment and discretion.

"What would it take to make this conversation fall under psychiatric confidentiality?" John sat forward as he asked.

"Do you actually want my help with something, or are you just looking for a loophole?" Gosset shifted a bit closer and rested his hands on the table.

"I want your help with something that sounds more than a little crazy, even to me." The wry grin that crossed John's face was more habit than intentional obfuscation.

"If you want me to consider you a client, I need to know you intend to be honest and to learn as much as you can to help yourself along the way." Gosset seemed more relaxed with every word, and John hated him a little for it.

"But I get to decide what we talk about." John tried not to make it a question.

"Even if you came to me for a regular appointment, you'd always have the final say in that. But for now, okay, explain the problem to me as if I'm your therapist."

At that point, Teyla tapped twice over the radio, a way they checked if it was okay to talk.

Holding up a finger, he tapped his radio and asked, "What is it Teyla?"

"Private Alonzo is awake, but he seems to blame the incident on a loose wire and Atlantis being 'much too flammable lately' as he put it."

"Oookay," John responded. "Anything else to report?"

"Nothing urgent. A bit of discussion with Woolsey that I can update you on later."

"Sure, thanks."

Tapping his radio off, John repeated the part about Alonzo and then asked, "So you can't tell anyone what I say now?"

"With a few exceptions for endangering yourself or others, and so on. But don't try to play games with me. I take my job and the right to confidentiality seriously."

"Okay, you want to help, here's what I know so far." John leaned back in his chair, trying to look relaxed. "The Tuaouns, who built their whole way of life, geothermal power system, and something like a religion around a volcano believe they were cursed with a firebug that passes from person to person. When whoever's got it lights a flame, they also set something else on fire within line of sight. I guess a lot of these fires are pretty lethal and destructive, because they believe that if there's one person left alive after a fire, that person has the firebug. Either that person will keep starting fires, or they'll pass it on to someone else to avoid that. They locked a kid in a miserable little room with nothing but pipes and minimal access to food and water, because there was nothing to burn in sight. Evidently that was their best idea for containing the firebug for as long as possible."

Gosset nodded encouragingly and didn't say anything as John finished explaining that part.

When John found himself rubbing the back of his neck again, he figured whatever that habit gave away was the least of his worries. "So we rescued the kid, didn't believe the parts of this myth she told us, and then there were two fires on Atlantis before we tracked her people down and filled in a few details. After that McKay did some research with information here in Atlantis and decided there might really be some sort of firebug." That was as much as John was going to say about Atlantis' role in all this. "Not that we believe the curse part, but you know about the energy creature that was released on Atlantis within our first weeks here?"

"I may have heard something about that." Gosset met John's eyes but seemed to be reserving judgement.

"Well, that would have sounded crazy, too. But lots of people can verify it was real. This firebug seems to be much smaller, and rather than draining energy it maybe adds it or shifts it around. I leave the physics up to McKay." John waved a hand in weak imitation of Rodney's gestures. "But anyway, he built a container for what he thinks this thing is. The idea was that after this fire we'd know who had the firebug, and I'd hang out alone with them until I could get it transferred into me. Then I'd transfer it to the new container."

"If what you say is true, wouldn't it make more sense for me to try to send it there directly?" Gosset asked.

Atlantis had implied it had to be John, but he certainly wasn't going to tell Gosset the parts he did and didn't understand around that. "Whatever McKay set up, I think it relies on my ATA gene."

"You certainly place a lot of trust in McKay," Gosset said.

"Not something we're going to discuss, but I have good reason to."

"Okay." Gosset agreed and seemed to relax back in his chair.

"That's it? Okay?" John had prepared himself for cross-examination or Gosset overriding his earlier assurances of privacy by claiming John's instability could endanger everyone on Atlantis.

"I can't explain how Private Alonzo caught fire in my office. While I didn't feel responsible or guilty about it, there was something bothering me about how he burst into flames right when I lit that candle. Your firebug story makes more sense than anything I have to offer, and while I barely know Dr. McKay, I'm aware of how often his intuitions and abilities have saved lives here in the past."

"Huh, I wasn't expecting that."

"Maybe I'm not as bad as you thought?" The way Gosset asked was wry, almost charming.

"Not what I'm here to discuss," John answered a bit too quickly, "but if whatever you know about your own mind can help you transfer a firebug or energy being to me, I'd find that very helpful."

"They didn't cover this in any of my training, but I guess you see that a lot." Gosset sounded amused. Leave it to psychiatrist to find hearing about the firebug reassuring. "I'm going to try a self-check in. You might see it as akin to meditation. Let me know if you think I've succeeded in transferring the firebug at any point. Otherwise, maybe give me a little peace and quiet."

Gosset took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

John was almost instantly bored. He wished he had one of Rodney's ever present tablets, or at least something to read. After a few minutes, it occurred to him that he might have a better chance of knowing if he caught the firebug if he could do some sort of self-check in.

Meditation had never been John's strength, but lately with the pod and earbuds, he had learned to relax and maybe tune in to his bond. He tried that in the little conference room with the no longer so intimidating psychiatrist sitting with eyes closed on the other side of the table. When John closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself in his hug machine, he felt a warm surge of connection from Atlantis. There weren't any indecipherable words or the impression of Earth sunlight through his eyelids, but he could almost feel his crystal under his hand. There was a sense that Atlantis was focused on him, focused with him on what Gosset was trying to do.

Then there was a shift in John's body. Not in his bond. It had nothing to do with Atlantis. He just felt a little warmer as if he'd experienced a surge of adrenaline or flushed in embarrassment.

John opened his eyes at the same moment Gosset did.

"You think that worked?" Gosset asked.

"Yeah. I should go to that lab McKay set up."

With a tight nod, Gosset said, "If anyone asks, I'll say you finished questioning me but I can't discuss any of it. I don't think I'll need to cite any sort of confidentiality, but trust me, I won't tell anyone."

"Great, thanks."

John was already standing to leave when Gosset spread his hands and said, "I'd be happy to talk again sometime. Same deal."

Something inside John clenched tight, but it didn't seem as impossible as before. "We'll see."

#

Ronon accompanied John to Rodney's personal project lab, where they found the head of science pacing with tablet in hand.

"So it's—you're ready for this?" Rodney asked, eyes wide and forehead wrinkled tighter than usual.

"Yeah, everything's good." John did his best to slouch and look relaxed. "Why don't you leave me to it?"

"Good?" Rodney sputtered. "Going to plan is not the same as good, especially with the way plans tend to shift around here, and we barely know what we're dealing with this time."

"We know I shouldn't be around other people or anything we don't want to catch on fire." John watched for any sign Ronon was surprised, but he'd been pretty sure his whole team knew the score.

"I'll stay here." Ronon planted himself just outside the door.

"Really, that's not necessary," John said as he patted the wall. "You understand what's going on here and why I have to do this alone?"

"Not a consulting detective, but I see the links." Ronon glanced at the containment device standing open on the lab floor.

"Great. Could you check if Teyla needs help and fill her in privately if you get a chance? Oh, and distract Woolsey if possible. I can keep him locked out, but I'd rather not explain why until this is dealt with."

"The game is on," Ronon said. It took only a moment for John to realize the Satedan was quoting Sherlock, and with a passable British accent.

Before walking away, Ronon clapped John on the shoulder and pointed his chin toward McKay who was fussing with the containment device.

John made his way across the room but was reluctant to touch the nervous scientist, even if he knew the firebug wasn't passed that way. "You should go, too."

"Let me show you the locking mechanism I came up with." Rodney proceeded to do so, basically two gears to twist and three clamps to lock, as he continued speaking without pause, "This should happen automatically, or Atlantis can trigger it through the floor. Just leave the device here, where I set it up." The containment device was about the size of a breadbox, which almost made John smile when he thought how similar their lives were recently to guessing games, like twenty questions. The device was dull metal with black seals and clamps, not much to look at expect for the electrical connectors and circuitry at one end. Rodney noticed where John was looking and said, "Atlantis kept sending ideas that conveniently, or not, popped up on my screen. I added power conduits that we can tap from outside, because I have a theory this creature might function like a ZedPM accelerant or a catalyst for some other energy source, if we can offer it the right input later. There's also slow burn incendiary material inside to keep the firebug busy for a while."

"Like feeding a hamster so it can run on a wheel that powers cool lights in a kid's bedroom?" John asked.

"What? Not at all. How do you come up with things like that? You didn't have that set up with a hamster did you? We never had pets when I was a kid, because my mom was allergic to cats and dogs, but that might have been worth looking into." Rodney finished demonstrating and resetting the device as he said, "I could stay if you want. I trust you and Atlantis, and my own device of course. This is all going to work, but if you want me in here with you—"

John didn't need super hearing to know his partner's heart was racing. "It's okay, Rodney. We don't know how long this will take, and I'm sure you have plenty of work to do. Besides, you're the best one to keep Carson from worrying." Only as John said it did he realize how true it was. While Rodney was babbling and displaying his concern for John in obvious ways, Carson would worry quietly for John until this was over, at least when he wasn't busy worrying about something more pressing. It wasn't something John had really thought about before.

Meanwhile, Rodney rushed to the other side of the room and started pointing out the rest of his preparations. "Your earbuds are here, plugged into the console if you need them. I left you a loaner tablet so you wouldn't have to risk your own. There are two of those military issue sleeping mats, because they're fireproof and one is never enough. I moved the rest of the furniture and flammables out, just in case, but there's an ice chest with snacks and water. A first aid kit and pack-it-out toilet are in the case behind that. Hopefully you won't need those. And there are matches and a couple candles, since lighting a flame seems to trigger it somehow."

"I'll be fine, Rodney. Let me get to work." John made a show of inspecting the supplies.

"Yes, of course, I know. I have lots of work to do, too. You're all set here for a little mini-vacation. Enjoy your vacation. Come see us when you're done." Rodney waved from just outside the door before hurrying away down the hall.

With a thought, John secured the door so thoroughly that even he couldn't get out if Atlantis thought the firebug or something else might be in control of his mind. Then John sat on the double layer of sleeping mats and stared at the containment device with intent. All he had to do was will the firebug into that box and the situation would be resolved.

Nothing was ever that easy.

John picked up a match and candle. He shifted so only the containment device was in line of sight and struck the match.

Within himself he felt a desire for flames, for fuel. The lining of the device across the room sparked red. That must be the slow burn material Rodney had mentioned. It was meant to keep the firebug in the box while the trap was sprung.

But the firebug wasn't in the box.

Somehow, John knew the firebug was still inside of him. It didn't have to leave to consume others—people or objects—in flames. It fed on the power from the burning material in the trap while staying safely housed inside its host. John thumped his head back into the wall. They should have anticipated this. Each host burned something down first, but the firebug didn't pass on until afterward and only to a person. The Tuaouns were able to take whoever survived a fire and lock them in the pipe room before the curse was passed on.

Now John had his fire. It was small and contained, more like embers of a fire. Red-orange. Glowing warmly. Mesmerizing.

As the last flickers disappeared, John came back to himself with a shiver. He wasn't sure if he'd found the odd little fire mesmerizing or if that had been the firebug influencing him. He had no idea how to push the firebug into the device now that there was no bait for the trap. Not that they'd had the right bait anyway, if the firebug would only transfer to a person.

After a few moments of thinking with his arms wrapped around his knees, John unfurled his earbuds and all the extra cords that came with them. If he couldn't figure out a new strategy on his own, maybe Atlantis could help.

#

After hours of yelling at minions and failing to do any higher level work, Rodney found Carson in his office. "John's not coming out for dinner. He messaged that he needs more time and won't be done tonight."

"You left him enough food for 48 hours," Carson answered mildly, closing files on his tablet and adjusting a simulation running on the Ancient console by his desk.

"But I didn't expect him to need it! You can't tell me you're not at all worried."

"You know, I worry about both of you whenever you're on a mission." Carson said with a sigh. "John was able to collect the firebug from Dr. Gosset very quickly, and Teyla and Ronon have done a brilliant job of keeping Woolsey busy all day. As far as I'm concerned, John's mission is safer than usual this time, because he's in Atlantis. And if there's anyone who can take care of him better than you and I would, it's Atlantis."

"With my help. I left him the food and sleeping mats." Rodney tapped his chest but knew he was being a bit ridiculous. He wasn't going to compete with Atlantis for taking care of John. There was more than enough of that to go around. "What are Ronon and Teyla doing to Woolsey anyway?"

"Oh, they called a full meeting of the immigration committee. Chuck has been posting progress reports online every hour to allow community feedback. You should read the most recent post."

Once he knew what to look for, Rodney had no problem finding Chuck's latest update. "Considering rules to take refugees. Woolsey confirmed precedent for considering Runners as refugees. Teyla argued those fleeing natural disaster or forced separation from family or people are Runners. Ronon persuasively agreed."

Rodney snorted and asked, "Do you think Ronon's persuasion was physical or he just had to grunt in Woolsey's direction?"

"From the number of similar posts and the fact they've only radioed for food and not medical, I'm guessing Ronon is being his quietly charming self."

Scrolling quickly backward through older posts and proposed agenda items, Rodney commented, "Someone should have left them 48 hours' worth of food at the start."

"You know how much Woolsey appreciates people eating during meetings." With a chuckle, Carson said, "Let's get some dinner."

The mess was serving spaghetti, which Rodney took with meat sauce and cheesy garlic bread. And a side of broccoli when Carson recommended it. Not until Rodney was halfway through his jello for dessert did he find an excuse for his latest question. "So what do you think about people removing their body hair?"

"I was talking about the Ancient device we use to remove hair around an injury site." Carson raised his eyebrows as if confused.

"I know." Rodney waved his spoon. "When I read through the options for the sex change machine, there was a whole subsection on adjusting patterns of hair growth. I don't think that has much to do with the reproductive system, so I think the Ancients really were into this for sex reassignment. But they have an option for no body hair that they mention in regard to touch sensitivities and not in connection to sex hormones, although they do mention hormones and gene expression in other parts about reducing or softening body hair. And I don't know how much this has to do with my not necessarily wanting to be male and how much it has to do with sensory stuff, but I never saw the point of having hair all over my body. I remember socks or pants or sleeves with tight cuffs or elastic tugging the hairs in annoying directions even when I was a kid."

"This makes me wonder if you experienced touch sensitivities and possibly other precursors to your heightened senses, even as a child." Carson's expression softened as he studied Rodney's face.

"I was a total freak as a kid," Rodney scoffed. "It doesn't matter why. On Earth, I was never going to consider waxing or chemical exfoliants for obvious reasons. And you know I don't want any Ancient device making permanent changes, at least not for something trivial that I'm not even sure about. But that pad you were mentioning to remove hair before surgery, you said it left the skin perfectly smooth without pain or harm. What would you think of using that on me?"

"All of you?" Carson asked.

Rodney nodded vigorously then paused. "Maybe we could experiment with parts most people don't see at first."

"I don't see why not," Carson finished his tea.

Rodney realized his cup of jello was empty. "You don't find the idea off-putting?"

"Quite the contrary," Carson did not say that in his doctor voice, and Rodney could hear his lover's heart speed up a little with whatever he was imagining.

#

They ended up back in Carson's quarters with Rodney tied to the bed and the nightlight switched on, even though John had said he'd be busy all night. Carson had picked up the hair removal device from the infirmary. It was pink and could be held in one hand like a chalkboard eraser.

Rodney was naked and hard without even his strap on.

"Do you want to play with your multiple orgasm device again?" Carson asked.

"Not tonight." Rodney panted. "Just want to do what you tell me. Want to wait, or try to."

"We both know you can do almost anything if you put your mind to it." Carson, still wearing his uniform pants and an undershirt, seated himself across Rodney's upper thighs.

Rodney could feel his partner's covered erection pressing against Rodney's bare one. He tried not to buck or shift, but the ropes holding him weren't that tight.

"I'll need you to stay still while I remove your hair. But when I test your skin's responsiveness afterward, feel free to move however you can within your restraints, at least until I say otherwise."

Rodney shivered at the words and the way Carson rocked against him as he said them.

"And Rodney, I know you tend to go non-verbal when we experiment like this, but I'd very much like to hear you tell me how it feels. You can rate your experience using numbers if that's easier. For the sake of science."

"God, yes." Rodney felt a drop of precome drip onto his stomach, and they'd barely even started. He wondered what the hair removal would feel like even as he watched Carson lower the device to his right pec just above his nipple. The scientist was surprised when it didn't feel like much at all. "It's like having a dry sponge pressed to my skin."

"And when I remove it?" Carson asked.

"Not much—" Rodney started before Carson blew across the area he'd just treated. Rodney's senses spiked enough that he had to focus in on Carson's heartbeat to keep the touch from overwhelming him. "Oh, shit. I wasn't prepared for that."

"Color?" Carson asked evenly, hiding any hint of worry.

"Green. It just took me a moment to balance. Could you blow on it again?" Rodney asked.

Carson leaned down and spoke with his mouth a few inches above Rodney's skin. "I was barely blowing on it before, more like an exhale."

Rodney swallowed hard. "It feels like a lot more. Like nerve endings are lighting up in ways they haven't before. My sense of touch would be off the charts if I wasn't balancing it with my hearing, which is high enough to hear every beat of your heart loud and clear." Rodney couldn't hold back a chuckle. "And your heart sped up a little when I said that."

"You have that effect on me," Carson said. He rocked his hips suggestively again as he placed the hair device on Rodney's left pec, just above his other nipple.

Even though Rodney was expecting it this time, Carson's breath across the newly bare skin spread like wildfire across his chest. Then Carson set down the device, inactive and harmless when not in use, and skated cautious fingertips in arcs above Rodney's nipples. Rodney groaned. "It's like you're already touching my nipples, or maybe like my pecs could be that sensitive all over. What is this like for people without my weird senses?"

"I don't care what it's like for them. I want to know what it's like for you. I want you to focus on what it's like for you, this first time, this new experience." Then Carson licked the newly sensitized skin.

Rodney's hips bucked a couple times without intention. He could feel his nipples were pointy and needy as well. "I love your tongue," was all Rodney could say. Then Carson's mouth closed over the area he'd licked as well as the nipple beneath. He sucked slowly, gently. "Your mouth," Rodney muttered, "I love your whole mouth. I want this forever."

Carson kept sucking slowly, lips dragging along Rodney's pecs as his tongue swirled around the nipple. The breath exhaled through Carson's nose fanned across wet skin. Rodney could even feel those breaths as far away as his other pec, his other untouched nipple. He tried to narrate the experience for Carson. He could hear Carson's heart rate and smell Carson's arousal in response to how he was overwhelming Rodney's self-control. "Please, I don't think I can take much more. It's too good. I'm too focused. You can't keep sitting across my crotch if you don't want me to come."

"I can't?" Carson pulled off to ask in a husky voice and Rodney whimpered. He knew what was coming next. "I think I can. I think you'll welcome the challenge. You'll be so good and let me tease you and rub against you for as long as I want." Then Carson's mouth descended on the other pec and nipple. Gentle, slow sucks. Lips spread wide and only gradually closing in to the nipple. Tongue occasionally swirling or flicking.

Carson's work pants were becoming uncomfortable against Rodney's erection. He was too turned on and still far too present in his body. "I need my strap, I'm starting to chafe."

When Carson's mouth pulled away, Rodney's chest pressed up to follow it. As his lover rested more weight on Rodney's thighs, the feeling of being pinned down and giving up control increased. Then Carson began to speak again, and Rodney felt as if every word settled on top of his skin, holding him down even more securely. "You're flushed from face to groin. Possibly lower, but I can't see because I'm sitting on you. Believe me though, what I see is beautiful."

Carson didn't touch or shift suggestively. He leaned to one side and Rodney was surprised to see him grab a wipe from then nightstand. "Whether I decide to cover you up or not, there's something we need to do first. Try not to get too excited." Carson used the wipe to clean Rodney's stomach where precome had dripped. The wipe felt cool against hot skin and gave Rodney a brief moment to calm down.

Then Carson supported the tip of Rodney's cock up off of his body as he picked up the hair removal device with his other hand.

Rodney took one deep breath after another as he tried not to thrust into the hand with the wipe barely touching his cock. The last several minutes had Rodney close to the edge. But his partner's touch now was remote, almost clinical. There was the wipe between hand and cock and the Ancient device between Carson's other hand and Rodney's abs.

Carson started on one side, just above Rodney's hip and worked his way across. Not a breath, not a lick, not much of a sensation. Just the press, press, press like a dry sponge on his skin as Rodney held incredibly still with his cock hard and held aloft while Carson concentrated on his work.

With a shudder and a deep breath, Rodney started to relax when Carson finished his pass from left to right. But Carson shifted down to start a pass from right to left. It didn't take a genius to know this was pubic hair territory. This was an area some people shaved or trimmed with sexual intent, but Rodney never had before. Carson was about to see parts of Rodney's skin that even Rodney hadn't seen.

The room was tinted gold from the nightlight but brighter from the regular lights that had been left on. From his position tied to the bed, Rodney could lift his head enough to see his own red, straining cock in Carson's hand. He could see the device being moved spot by spot right up to the base of his cock. Even a neutral touch, like a sponge, across that area was enough to have Rodney's pleasure sensors responding when he was so turned on. He couldn't really see from his angle how different one side looked with all the hair removed. But he could see Carson staring down at him. He could smell Carson's arousal and imagine the wet spot forming under his partner's clothing. Even if Carson didn't speak, Rodney knew this was what Carson wanted, to be the one to do this for Rodney, to see Rodney like this.

Rodney had started the evening wanting to experience his body partly hairless. Now he was more intent on giving this experience to Carson. He wished he could see through his lover's eyes, could share even more of the experience than his senses allowed.

Their bond opened wider. Rodney could feel Carson's confidence. His appreciation for Rodney's body. The different feel of appreciation for Rodney's trust. Tender feelings Rodney didn't have words for, maybe didn't want to hear out loud. Rodney relaxed into his bond mate's hold.

"Do you feel that? Our bond?" Rodney asked, his voice barely a whisper. "I forgot to talk, trying so hard not to come. Then I was trying to imagine what you saw, and I felt this. It feels so good, the bond, doing this for the first time with you, all of it."

Settling back lower on Rodney's thighs, Carson leaned down and released a long warm breath against the shaft of Rodney's cock. The air divided and slid to the skin beneath, like water running downhill. Except the skin beneath was hypersensitized. Rodney could feel every air current, every eddy. He could have mapped the fluid dynamics except the sensation was too overwhelming.

As Rodney drifted along each rivulet of pleasure, Carson whispered words just above his skin, just above his cock. "I felt the bond opening, and now I feel you relaxing. You're sinking into subspace, and yet you found the words to tell me. You are so good for me, trying so hard to wait, to tell me what you feel, to trust me when I say you can handle more." Carson licked the newly bare skin and Rodney's toes curled. Every muscle from his groin to his toes tightened and tingled. Rodney felt it, felt so turned on, so blissed out. But it passed over him like little waves. Like he could rest in this condition forever.

Carson started speaking again, every words a brush of pleasure to both hearing and touch. "I'm going to move down the mattress and loosen the ties holding your feet. Then I'm going to push your legs up and spread them apart while I remove a little more hair."

It was good that Carson told him, or Rodney might have felt bad when the warm weight left his legs. The wipe beneath his cock and the clothing brushing against him were removed. Instead, he felt the thump as his cock bobbed against newly smooth skin. He vibrated like a drum. Vibrated with pleasure. He was allowed to move a bit now. It didn't take much. Shivering made the air around him into a million tiny brushes against his skin. He imagined them dancing to the tune of Carson's heartbeat, like the brooms in Fantasia but firmly under Carson's control.

When Carson rearranged Rodney's legs, the pull on his muscles felt good.

The device removing hair around his balls, along the creases beside his thighs, offered enough pressure to send a surge of desire through Rodney. Then the brushes of air spread to the newly cleared skin, bringing Rodney new and different pleasure.

It was only when Carson cleared the area around Rodney's hole that the sensations took on a true urgency. His hole twitched as if all those tiny brushes of air were teasing for entrance and Rodney couldn't help but respond.

"Oh, I see how that is. Easy now, love. Let me gather a little lube." Then Carson's slick finger traced perfect circles around Rodney's hole, around perfectly smooth skin and in to where the skin puckered and crinkled.

Rodney couldn't hold back his moans as Carson's first knuckle breached him. The pleasure of his skin was something different than this. While their bond connected them, there was something entirely more visceral about having a part of Carson inside him. "Please, so good," Rodney gasped.

"Trust me, I can give you this and everything else I had in mind." Then Carson was stretching Rodney, and it seemed to go fast. Either Rodney was very relaxed, very turned on, or not tracking time too closely.

A moment later, Carson was inside him. Rodney was filled. He was moaning with each easy thrust. Carson leaned forward as if to kiss him but instead he was removing more hair. "Wouldn't want to leave the job half done. I'd barely started on your ribs and chest. Such beautiful skin. So rosy as I make love to you. I love watching you shift and breathe and moan with pleasure. Do you even notice as I'm removing your hair? Do you notice when I blow like this?"

A cool long breath passed over Rodney's skin. His breathing stuttered. He was hot and cold and all over the place. It was good Carson was inside him, body and bond. At some point Carson had stripped naked without Rodney noticing. At some point Rodney had closed his eyes.

Now he blinked, lids heavy, but eager to see his lover studying him. Blue eyes staring down at him. Lips pursed to blow across skin. The breath passed over him, making him feel more when he didn't know he could.

Rodney sighed.

"You like this?" Carson asked.

"So much."

"Me, too. This was a very good idea you had. You really are a genius."

Rodney closed his eyes, overwhelmed.

"I'm finishing up along the base of your neck, and that will be it for today. But my mark here, it's a little faded. I wonder how it would feel to you right now if I freshen it up a bit." Carson leaned aside to set the device down as he continued narrating what he was going to do to Rodney. "While still deep inside you, I'm going to raise your hips up enough that I can lay flat on top of all that newly depilated skin."

Rodney shivered even before Carson suited actions to words. If Rodney had felt overwhelmed before, there were no words to express the feeling of Carson's skin and hair against a newly hairless torso. It almost hurt, maybe it did hurt a little, but Rodney was flying. Every touch brought him higher. Then Carson sucked on the faint mark at the base of Rodney's neck, and Rodney's mind imploded. He was the sensation. The sucking, the rubbing, the rocking inside him. Air across his skin. Skin sliding against his, almost as slick now as the cock in his ass.

Rodney was one mass of nerve endings calling out together.

There was a shift, fresh air across Rodney's torso, a harder pounding inside him. A suddenly slick pressure wrapped around his cock. "Come for me Rodney. Right now. I can't wait any longer." Carson milked Rodney through an orgasm that seemed to continue on and on, even as Rodney felt Carson pulsing inside him.

By the end, Rodney was a sweaty, come covered, lube oozing mess. He couldn't move as Carson sat panting between his legs. "Give me a minute to catch my breath. I brought a soft, new cloth to clean you up. But I need a moment to remember you like this. So smooth and pink. So completely wrung out and trusting. So beautiful like this."

#

Flames leapt around John. They crackled and spit. The back of his neck burned. His nose filled with smoke, and he tasted it on his tongue.

But he wasn't choking. The scent of the smoke carried hints of pine and roasting marshmallow. The wall of flame towering behind him never consumed his clothing or hair.

Words he couldn't understand whispered in his ear. He was part of something larger. Something vast and undying.

When the noise in his head finally eased, the sensory barrage ended as well.

John opened his eyes to see the nearly empty lab where Rodney had left him. The containment device still sat open and unused, exactly where the scientist had rigged it.

Pulling tubes and cables from his mouth, nose, ears, and neck, John stared at the Ancient earbud assembly in his hands. Until now, it had been a source of comfort, a gift from Atlantis to John. It would never be that simple again.

For months, Atlantis had lulled John to sleep with words he couldn't understand despite the ubiquitous Gate translation. Sitting in the control chair, John had known he could never understand more than a fraction of his bond mate's thinking. When she spoke to him, John presumed the words were meant as comfort, at least to him and possibly to his bond mate as well.

But this time, Atlantis had used her influence over his hearing as well as other senses to test his responses. Not that John understood even half of what he'd just been through, but he knew enough about programming and simulations to know Atlantis had worked through the Ancient earbuds to scope out the firebug, which was effectively part of John at the moment. This was why John had to be the test subject. Not because of his ATA gene. Not because of his military role or training. He was the only person Atlantis could interface with that way, and she'd known this might be necessary to solve the problem of the firebug they had brought to her.

In a way, Atlantis was inhabited by the firebug as much as John was. The fires triggered, even if easily contained thus far, were assaults on Atlantis. John couldn't blame her for using him to contain the threat. She must know he was willing and would have offered if he'd thought of it himself. If it changed their relationship and how John felt about their interactions through the earbuds, well, all relationships shifted over time.

Somehow, he knew there wasn't going to be an immediate solution. Picking up the tablet Rodney had loaned him, John sent Rodney a message saying he wouldn't be available for dinner or until at least the next day. Then he put his creative report writing skills to use as he summarized his progress on what he refused to call an arson investigation, including that Dr. Gosset had been cleared of wrong doing and the threat was contained and should be resolved within 48 hours. He hoped that would be enough to keep Woolsey from pestering him in the science labs for at least half that time. John was secretly hoping to have this solved by the 24 hour mark, but at present he had no better plan than to wait and see what Atlantis came up with. It was either that or try to meditate.

Standing to stretch, John realized he was sore and a bit lightheaded from sitting still too long. He ran though some basic calisthenics: jumping jacks, lunges, pushups, and crunches. Then he checked out the food Rodney had provided. There were six MREs, including three kinds of chicken that Rodney knew John liked, as well as two packaged desserts, two muffins, plenty of bottled water, and a thermos. A quick sniff told him the thermos contained hot chocolate, not coffee, which surprised John. Then he realized hot chocolate was just what he wanted, even if it didn't really go with the chicken pesto pasta MRE he'd selected.

As he enjoyed his chicken and hot chocolate, John thought about how Rodney tried to be considerate. The genius had always amused and intrigued John, but at the start it had been easy to believe the scientist didn't care for anything beyond himself and his work. Even after they became teammates, raced model cars, and played video games that turned into planetary disasters, it took John a long time to realize how much of Rodney's condescension and cruelty were meant to protect the insecure and traumatized scientist.

It had taken John even longer to realize Rodney cared for John and was helping John work through his own trauma and trust issues. They'd both been touch starved and longing for what Carson described as intimacy in various forms. Without Carson, John wasn't sure he or Rodney would have sorted that out.

As he finished his hot chocolate, John wondered at his own thoughts. Perhaps being forced to speak with a therapist, even if only to contain a parasitic arson-related energy creature, had affected John in ways he hadn't expected. Or maybe it had more to do with his bonding, first to Atlantis, and then to include Carson and Rodney.

After cleaning up from his meal and using the items provided to prepare for bed, John lay down on the double layer of sleeping mats. Rodney was right that two of those mats were much better than one, and Atlantis had adjusted the room temperature to suit John and his lack of blankets or other bedding. He wasn't even missing his hug machine or human touch at the moment. For the first time John could remember, he wasn't starved for touch. If anything, having a night to himself, knowing no one could interrupt or force him from the room, was sort of like a vacation. Although John would never admit that to Rodney.

The lab was perfectly quiet. Given this was where Rodney went to blow things up, it wasn't surprising the room was soundproof. Atlantis had ways of circulating air and powering Ancient consoles without even a hum or hiss. The room smelled of chicken and pesto still, and despite scrubbing his teeth with a travel wipe, the taste of chocolate lingered somewhere in the back of John's mouth.

Feeling as close to calm as he was likely to get, John closed his eyes and tried to emulate the state of mind Gosset had used to expel the firebug earlier.

Meditation really wasn't John's forte. He tried counting his breaths. Then he focused on tensing and relaxing one muscle group after another, starting at the top of his body and working his way down. It was a little like self-massage and relaxed John even further. He tried to imagine gripping and expelling the firebug the same way, willing it toward the device across the room. But each attempt failed. Eventually, John fell asleep.

#

The next morning, John opened his eyes to something unknown sitting in front of the still open containment device.

Some sort of mechanical bug with a crystal twice its height sticking out of its back was waving antennae in John's direction. John's first fully formed thought was that maybe it was the firebug. His second was, _that's ridiculous._

Whatever his visitor might be, the crystal in its back looked Ancient. With the security measures John had used to lock down the lab, it had either been here the entire time, or Atlantis had let it enter through a vent.

John reached for the earbuds he hadn't tried since Atlantis' sensory experiment about fire. He also picked up the radio he'd removed from behind his ear before trying to meditate the night before. At first, both were silent.

Then Atlantis piped the sound of ocean waves through his earbuds. This was one of the original calming sounds she'd played for him. He assumed it was meant as reassurance and felt a flicker across their bond that seemed to confirm it. A muttering of coded words replaced the wave sounds, and the mechanical crystal bug flicked its antennae before beginning to prowl around exploring the containment device. It studied each seam. Although John couldn't see anything resembling eyes or a camera, whatever Atlantis was saying in his head made John believe the crystal the tiny robot carried was complex enough to simulate human functioning.

When the crystal bug bot crawled inside Rodney's device and stopped there, John understood. Atlantis had devised a new form of bait. Still, John sat staring for several minutes, not sure he'd want to trap even a cockroach inside with an alien energy being for eternity.

Then he thought of the Iratus bug that had tried to feed off him and helped to partly transformed his mind and body. His stomach was tight and skin clammy at the memory when Woolsey's voice came over his radio, "Colonel Sheppard, I expect you to report in person to my office in half an hour. No more hedging with incomplete written reports. I need answers, and I expect you to provide them."

The desire for answers and to get the firebug out of his head peaked as the voice from his earbuds took the place of Woolsey's. There was a moment of desire, for fire or something more nebulous, and the tightness in John's stomach became a stone holding him in place as he pushed something out.

The door on the containment device slammed shut with a bang.

Gears turned. Latches clicked.

John didn't see any sparks or smoke. He didn't see anything inhabit the crystal on the tiny robot body. But he knew the firebug was out of him. He knew it was contained. The noises in his ear told him all was well, and it still comforted him to hear, even if it might take some time for John to readjust to using the Ancient earbuds' full set of sensory inputs.

He radioed Woolsey to say he'd be there in thirty minutes.

#

Thirty minutes turned out to mean 0900. John managed a shower and quick breakfast as he thought through which parts of his involvement in trapping the firebug he could reasonably explain to Woolsey.

He was surprised to find Rodney already lecturing—with slides involving complicated circuit diagrams—in Woolsey office when John arrived.

"For option number six, we plan to test if the harnessed energy being can act as a catalyst allowing a nearly dead ZedPM to recharge from an alternative energy source, possibly hydro, solar, or geothermal power. In this case the connections to the containment device are represented here and here." Rodney tapped his tablet and two green arrows appeared on his circuit diagram. "In option number seven—"

"Thank you, Dr. McKay. Unless Colonel Sheppard has any concerns, I'll trust that as head of science you will authorize further experiments as you see fit." Woolsey took a deep breath, as he often did when confronted with Rodney, and pushed his glasses up his nose before focusing on John. "I take it whatever was causing fires is now fully contained, as Dr. McKay reported?"

"I verified that in person before confirming this meeting with you," John said smoothly.

"I'll expect your final report by the end of today." Woolsey rubbed his forehead, looking surprisingly tired for so early in the day.

John triggered the door to open as he responded, "Understood."

To his surprise, Teyla, Ronon, and several others who hadn't been there when John arrived were now waiting outside Woolsey's door. Teyla smiled warmly at John and Rodney and then turned a much more dangerous smile Woolsey's way. "You said our meeting on immigration practices could resume after you heard from Colonel Sheppard."

"What I said was that talks couldn't resume until I heard from Colonel Sheppard." Woolsey pressed his palms flat against his desk, body language stern.

"Perhaps the connotations vary between languages," Teyla said sweetly. "Nevertheless, all members of the committee are gathered and eager to meet. I assume you will join us in the main conference room. We will prepare the seating arrangement for equal access and intermingling perspectives as we did yesterday."

As Teyla and her mob headed toward the conference room, John escaped down the stairs, with Rodney close on his heels. In the transporter John asked, "Do I even want to know what options you were discussing with Woolsey?"

"Only because they were brilliant and may keep our resident energy entity suitably occupied. The data Atlantis provided suggests there is some level of sentience, at least in its symbiotic form, and I'm more than happy to keep it productively engaged. Atlantis sent me specs for this crystal bot." Rodney flashed John a picture of the bot from that morning. "I assume that's now in the containment device with the firebug?" When John nodded and raised his eyebrows partly to keep his eyes from drifting shut, Rodney said, "I can send you the cliff notes version of what I told Woolsey. Hard night?"

"Yes and no." John didn't want to explain, but he appreciated Rodney asking. "I just want to get that final report written and settle into my normal routine."

"Normal, hah," Rodney scoffed. "The generic holiday party is tonight, which means today is the strategically determined compromise day for observing any winter holidays relevant to SGC and related personnel."

"Sounds great," John didn't even try to hide his sarcasm from Rodney. "If you've been good this year, maybe someone will bring you a present."

"Another present, beyond the kigurumi you gave me early?" Rodney bounced and smiled in the lopsided way John knew meant more than Rodney cared to admit. "Clearly I've been better than good."

"Sure, buddy," John said as he exited the transporter. "See you later."

#

The music students kicked off the party with their chimes and singing. The acoustics in the mess hall were surprisingly good, and everyone had hushed to listen at the sound of the first pure notes. They ended with Ronon's song in Satedan and plenty of applause from the members of the audience who'd picked up that Earth tradition.

Then Ronon swooped in and gathered a couple of kids on his shoulders. They whooped and squealed as he spun them around, up high above the heads of the crowd. He was slightly more gentle with the smaller students who clamored for his attention next. Rodney stood to the side and watched, putting away the chimes.

He wasn't at all prepared when Ronon lifted him off his feet and spun him around in circles. Rodney pounded on his back. "Put me down, you barbarian. It was all the kids' idea to include your song."

Ronon kept spinning until Rodney was dizzy and gave up his protests. Ronon wasn't hurting his back, and the motion made what might have been a hug into more of a dance. Rodney didn't even have to worry about where to place his feet, since they never touched the ground.

When the Satedan finally set him down, he kept a hand on Rodney's shoulder to make sure he was steady. Then he whispered softly enough that only Rodney could hear, "You're not haunted by music, you miss it."

With a swat at Ronon's arm, Rodney protest, "Stop quoting that show. You are mangling it horribly and don't know what you're talking about."

Ronon squeezed his shoulder before walking to the drinks table. Rodney followed to check out all the hot beverages. There wasn't any hot chocolate, but there was hot apple cider and the mulled pink beverage Teyla had introduced them to, lapapa. "Try this," Ronon said, holding out a steaming mug of something else.

It took a measure of trust in his teammate for Rodney to eat or drink anything without asking questions, but he managed it for once. He suspected that for Ronon, like Carson, demonstrations of trust could matter more than words. At first taste Rodney was surprised by the sweetness, and after that by the alcoholic kick. "Is this some kind of mead? Fermented honey?"

"Nope."

Teyla spoke next from behind him, almost making Rodney spit out his drink. He hadn't known she was there. "The Losoruns make it from tree sap, like your maple syrup? It is their traditional winter beverage, and much more potent that you might guess from the taste."

"Got it." Rodney took another sip. It was sweet but had complex notes, like smoke and berries. Still, it wasn't something he'd want to drink more than a cup of. "Oh, I have something for each of you, over with Carson."

They made their way across the crowded mess hall to a small table where Carson sat chatting with a few of his infirmary staff. They all had bundles of cellophane wrapped with red ribbons in front of them. One was open, showing the peppermint bark candy inside. Rodney dug into a bag beside Carson's chair and produced two cellophane bundles tied off with twists of silver wire. "I made these myself."

Teyla raised an eyebrow but asked gently, "With Carson, or do they contain something different?"

"Well, we worked together. I rigged the chocolate temperer and he crushed the candy canes for all the peppermint bark. But the batches I made for you and my staff have a higher dark chocolate to white chocolate ratio, what I call the genius variation."

Now Carson raised his eyebrows at Rodney, but only in amusement. Teyla leaned her head in to thank Rodney in the Athosian way. "I made extra nassanits that I will deliver to you all later, and I acquired this." She held out a small bag and Rodney recognized the comforting Ancient smell even before he accepted the packet. "This contains the spice used in lapapa that John asked about. I can tell him where to trade for more if he's interested."

Ronon clapped Rodney on the back and said, "Special workout next time."

"That's really not necessary," Rodney began to explain.

"You'll like it. Has to do with music." The way Ronon said it, Rodney knew not to argue. The Satedan song Ronon had shared with the kids had surprised Rodney, but he was smart enough to know Ronon had plenty of surprises left, if he wanted to share them.

Then Kusanagi surprised everyone in the room with a loud sharp whistle Rodney had never heard in all his years working with the usually quiet scientist. She stood between two large objects covered by bedsheets at the front of the room. Around the object on her right stood a group of children that included Oluah and her new sister, Napat. "My Young Makers group has a gift to present to the community at large, something they learned to fabricate with a device in our community center maker space that uses 100 percent recycled materials."

From the group around the other sheet covered object an Athosian teen spoke up. "Our Teen Design group trained in engineering and building to make the other half of the gift."

Then both sides pulled their sheets away revealing a wooden support structure designed and built by the teens and a curved piece of something like orange plastic created by the kids and Kusanagi. In front of an appreciative audience they slid the two pieces together and quickly fastened the new slide in place. A couple of Marines carried in a mat from the gym to set at the bottom temporarily, and the smallest child from Kusanagi's group was given the honor of the inaugural trip down the slide.

Then Kusanagi spoke again. "This gift was designed for the community play space in the courtyard of the new family dwellings."

Suddenly Teyla was beside Kusanagi, and Rodney was really glad they were both on his side, because he couldn't keep track of them in a room let alone all the other plots and plans they each seemed to orchestrate. In a clearly planned speech, Teyla said, "The families that live around the courtyard are eager to hear more children playing together. We are happy to accept this gift. We thank the Young Makers and Teen Designers for giving their time and creativity to improve our community as a whole." She nodded to both groups and then continued, "On behalf of the immigration committee, I am also happy to announce that guidelines have been negotiated and we have plans to accept many peoples to help build community here on Atlantis. In the next few days we will be hosting a community feedback meeting and releasing a list of particular skills we are seeking as well as possibilities for sponsoring individuals or families, relatives or refugees. My thanks to Mr. Woolsey and all the committee members who worked tirelessly over the last two days to help these plans bloom in the time of midwinter."

Rodney clapped along with the rest, honestly happy for the kids and Teyla and everyone, but wondering how soon he could escape for a more private celebration.

#

John stopped by his own quarters to pick up his gift for Rodney and Carson. It wasn't much, but it was big and squishy and tied with a bow. Rodney had been none too subtle about his wish to leave the party early, and John hadn't really been in the mood for crowds and noise. He'd slept surprisingly well the night before, with only Atlantis for company as they tried to trap the firebug. But part of him was excited to be in the sort of relationship where someone wanted to celebrate a holiday with him.

He entered Carson's room to find Rodney pulling all sorts of clothing and cloth out of a carved wooden box. John set his gift aside on the farthest chair.

"Sorry," Carson said to John. "Like a kid on Christmas morning, he couldn't wait any longer to open his present. Would you like some tea or hot chocolate? We have two different types of peppermint bark, or I could make peppermint hot chocolate."

"I want that!" Rodney called out from where he stroked something like a kimono across his knee before pulling off his shirt.

Carson chuckled and his expression softened at Rodney's antics. "I looked for interesting cloth or clothing items, local or from Earth, on the barter listings and made Rodney a sort of dress up box. He'd mentioned something like it at the children's center a few times, and I thought, why not?"

A couple months before, John might have been uncomfortable, wondered if the dressing up tied into some sex scene or if this should be a private gift exchange between Carson and Rodney. Now he felt like part of the moment and said, "I'd be happy to try peppermint hot chocolate as well."

"I'll make it three then."

As Carson pulled out milk, Rodney called, "Come try these on, John. I think you'll like them."

What Rodney was waving in approximately John's direction was a pair of whitish gray booties with fur inside. John sat on the couch while he slid out of his shoes and socks before taking the booties. From one touch of the fur inside he could tell it was incredibly soft and dense. "These aren't from Earth."

"No idea," Rodney answered the implied question. "But don't you want to wiggle your toes in them?"

Deciding to save questions about wearing real fur from unknown Pegasus ecosystems for another day, John slipped his feet into what truly were amazingly soft and comfy booties.

Meanwhile, Rodney had dressed himself in extremely loose pants that hung almost like a skirt and a silky kimono-style jacket. "Oh, god, this feels amazing on my chest."

As John took a second look and asked, "Did you shave your chest?" Carson arrived with peppermint hot chocolate for all of them. Rodney slid in beside John with Carson taking the other end of the couch.

"We used an Ancient device from the infirmary," Carson said. "It removes hair gently and painlessly, with just a touch to the skin."

"The sex change machine has options for permanent hair removal, but I don't want to rush into anything like that. I think I want to depilate my legs next. What do you think?" Rodney asked as if he didn't care, but the fact he hadn't even tasted his hot chocolate yet told John his response mattered somehow.

"If you like it, go for it."

The corners of Rodney's lips curved up a bit before he sipped his chocolate. "Oh, Carson, this is amazing."

With that John tried his own. The usual deep chocolate carried just a hint of peppermint, but Carson had sprinkled crushed candy cane on top of the whipped cream. So the top was even sweeter than usual with a strong peppermint flavor. "We should definitely make this a holiday tradition."

Rodney groaned around his next swallow in a way John had once found discomforting, because it sounded like a sex noise, at least like some in movies. Now he was so used to Rodney, his demonstrative personality and his unguarded noises, that it made John happy to hear such simple pleasure.

He took the time to enjoy each sip of his own drink and waited until Rodney finished before asking the question forming in his mind. "Have you thought about how you would change your body if you could? Like maybe if you were a shape-changer with conscious control over it all?"

"You mean, I could keep changing or change it back, but maybe not too fast? Because if I could do it instantly at will I'd constantly be experimenting and refining my design." Rodney watched John for any reaction as he spoke, but he didn't give him a chance to answer. "At the simplest level, I'd like to have conscious control over my receding hairline and hair growth or loss in general. You won't be shocked that I want full control over my erections and my nipples sticking out. Our original science shirts were terribly annoying for that. Multiple orgasms are nice too, but you probably don't want a list of sex stuff, so I'll just say a couple tentacles I could stow under my clothes or maybe in a pouch could be better than an extra set of hands in lots of work and other settings. I'd keep my muscles, heart, lungs, and back in top shape without having to exercise, and maybe I could get rid of my citrus allergy and hypoglycemia. And I'd add new sensory organs, to emulate all my scanners and detect all wavelengths, but all under conscious control, with maybe some emergency alert settings. I sound like I'm programming a cyborg self, don't I? Probably more likely than most shape-change options. Did you have something in mind for yourself?"

John blushed. He could feel his face heat.

"You want wings!" Rodney practically shouted. "Of course you want wings, flyboy. Now that's going to work better with some shape-change option other than robotics, because you know enough aeronautics to realize humans are truly not designed to fly under their own power."

John knew, but he truly had dreamed of flying his whole life. There were a few other changes he wouldn't mind making either, but nothing compared to Rodney's detailed list. Mostly, John felt lucky to be as healthy and fit as he was after all the years and injuries he'd lived through.

"Easy, Rodney." Carson set down his now empty chocolate mug. "It's a thought experiment, not a physics lecture. Perhaps I should get my gift for John now."

Carson reached to clear their mugs, but John beat him to it. Rodney crossed his arms and stayed on the couch asking, "What about you Carson?"

"I'm used to being in this body." The doctor shrugged as he crossed the room and retrieved a narrow box wrapped in shiny red paper from his dresser. "I wouldn't mind rolling back some effects of aging, but I don't really want to be anything different."

By the time John had washed their mugs and set them to dry, Carson was back on the couch holding the box. He'd left a space between himself and Rodney again for John, so he sat.

"For you, John. Happy Holidays."

John took the box and said, "Thanks." Then he carefully removed the paper that had clearly been shipped from Earth and could hopefully be reused. The box inside held six bottles of oil, each labeled with a different scent like birch, arnica, or pomegranate and all claiming to be body oil essentials. "I'm not sure what arnica is, but this is very nice."

"The real gift is that I want to give you at least one massage with each oil at a time of your choosing. It will give us both a chance to better learn how you react to various scents and touch." Carson had shifted his hand to rub John's knee as he said it, and John held the box of oils a little tighter and closer to his body as he imagined asking for such a thing.

"Do you want my gifts now, or do you want to go next?" Rodney asked with a glance toward the fluffy bundle of blanket John had left by the door.

"I think you can already see what I brought. It's for both of you, and it's not very exciting." John shrugged.

"Are you kidding? I've been dying to touch that and unwrap it all night!" Rodney's knees bounced under his hands as he stared at the bundle of blanket.

The way Rodney's words and limbs bobbed forward in honest excitement had John bouncing his knees as well. "I don't think I've been here even half an hour, but go ahead."

#

Rodney pushed off of the couch eager to show John how much he liked his gift. Christmas in the McKay household had never been the giddy, child-friendly affair he'd seen on TV, and Rodney was glad to let himself go with it now that he had the chance. John's only wrapping was a bit of green curly ribbon tied around a darker green blanket that was very plush and fuzzy. As Rodney untied the string and flung open the blanket he realized it was heavy and double thick as well. "Oh, this needs to be on the bed."

Making his way across the room, Rodney squeezed his bundle tight and rubbed his face in it. It was already his favorite blanket, even before he flung it out mostly flat across the bed and launched himself on it. "Get over here, Carson, this is your gift too. And John. You gave it, come help me enjoy it."

Once he had both his partners by his sides, Rodney pulled the blanket around them and tucked it tight on both sides, like a burrito, although it felt more like a cocoon. "This is perfect, John. How did you find it?"

"I did a search on softest blanket using the Atlantis web portal."

"It's lovely, John. Thanks you," Carson said.

"God, I love the internet, even our limited version. We need to set that up for Pegasus, maybe once they have computers." Rodney wriggled and made himself comfortable, wrapped around John and Carson with all the limbs he had. Moments like this really made him wish for tentacles. "Maybe we should just sleep like this and save my gifts for tomorrow?"

"It's still really early," John said.

Carson ran a hand up and down Rodney's back and probably had his other hand on John as he said, "I could give you each a massage. I can do a lot without oils if you want to stay wrapped in the blanket."

Rodney hummed, thinking about it. John ran his fingers through Rodney's hair, which encouraged Rodney to take his time enjoying the smooth fabrics he wore, which were part of Carson's gift, while swaddled in the lush blanket John had given them. He realized there was something all their gifts had in common that he couldn't talk about unless they opened his. "Fine, I've decided you should open my gifts and then we'll decide what to do when." With that Rodney squirmed his way out—across both his bond mates and the blanket—so he could retrieve his gifts that were all wrapped up in a pillow case with a carefully twisted wire bow holding it closed.

They shifted to sit in a circle, still sort of nested in the fluffy blanket, as Rodney set his gift between them. "There are several items that may be used in various combinations or separately."

"Nice bow," John said. He figured out in a moment the single twist that would separate the two ends of the wire without unbending the decorative pattern Rodney had shaped the wire into.

The scientist had expected the pattern to appeal to John's form of spatial mathematical thinking, but Rodney hadn't expected the solution to come quite so fast. "Not quite everyone is an idiot, despite what Sherlock and I may say at times."

John pulled the blanket up around his ears and quipped back, "I'm in shock. Look, I've got a blanket."

With a huff of a laugh, Carson said, "We'll have to watch more of that show. Between the two of you and Ronon, we'll run out of quotes with just one episode. Now tell me, what's this?"

Carson had pulled out the swim cloth with a green and blue water color pattern, so Rodney tried to explain. "It's a swim cloth I added to the gift bag after seeing kids wear them to their lessons with John. The Panonian I traded with included some sketches of ways to wear them. The fabric is smooth and quick drying, and I thought they might be more comfortable for hot tubbing than what we wore before. Or we could use them for other things, like in place of ropes. I chose three, but I might be wrong about who would like each one."

Carson glanced at the other items John had pulled from the bag, including a variety of bath oils, melts, salts, a bush, and two differently textured mitts as well as the other two swim cloths. Carson smiled. "I'm fine with whatever, but I would say this blue pattern brings out John's eyes, the red stripes suit Rodney's skin tone, and the charcoal color suites my hair and taste in clothing."

"Works for me," John said, accepting the swim cloth Carson handed him.

Rodney pretended to pout. "You both see through these puzzles far too easily. You'll undermine my standing as the genius in this group."

There was challenge in John's eyes as he said, "I bet you can find a more interesting way to tie this on me than any of those pictures show."

"Are you kidding?" Rodney bounced. "I've already thought of a dozen arrangements I want to try, and some would suit you better than either of us. You really want me to?"

Looking Rodney straight in the eyes John said, "I'm going to keep teaching swimming in my board shorts, but for now, I'm curious to see what you've thought up."

Rodney grabbed the cloth from John's hands and asked, "Are you okay with starting out naked?"

"Can I keep the booties on?"

"For now," Rodney smiled as he found the center of the cloth.

#

The snug booties covering his feet and ankles as well as the soft nest of blanket around them all helped John feel less self-conscious as Rodney wrapped his groin and worked his way up John's torso. John had ended up kneeling to give Rodney the access he needed. He was sure what they were doing would look sexual to anyone watching. Except Carson sat beside them admiring the process the way John might watch a sculptor at work or a spider spinning a web.

Carson wasn't hard. His eyes weren't dilated. When he reached out to rub John's neck he was offering reassurance.

"Is this a dominance thing for you?" John finally asked.

"Not really, although it depends on what you mean by that. I like watching Rodney do clever things with his hands, with his mind too, although that's not always easy to see. I like seeing each of you enjoying yourselves, especially if the other is, or I am, doing something to please you." Carson ran his fingers up into John's hair. "But there's a way you go still or slow down as Rodney's wrapping that around you—as you let him tie you up—that to me looks a bit like someone enjoying submission or bondage."

"Does it matter why I enjoy it?" John wasn't sure he knew or wanted to think about it.

"Not really." Carson played with the hairs at the nape of John's neck as Rodney secured the last of the cloth in loops over John's shoulders. The effect did look a little like a corset to John, but it felt snug and the right amount of concealing for his tastes. "Does it matter why I like watching?"

"Not in this case." John relaxed as Carson rubbed his neck more solidly. He turned his attention to Rodney, whose eyes were a bit dilated as he stared at John from less than an arm's length away. "Is it me or your own work that you're studying?"

"Ask Carson, he'd probably know better than me what I'm feeling." Rodney's voice had the softer tone John had already started to associate with what Carson called subspace. "Which one of you is going to tie me up?"

"I think that would work better for Carson." John settled back on the blanket, more than willing to watch. There was something to be said for wanting to see his partners' pleasure and enjoyment, so long as it didn't put John in an awkward situation.

"You're probably right. Undress for me Rodney, then kneel on the bed with your knees shoulder width apart." Carson picked up the red striped cloth and began by positioning the center like a thong, or in fact, like one of the straps Rodney made for himself. "That's more comfortable now, isn't it?"

"Yes, thanks." Rodney took a deep breath and seemed to relax all over as he exhaled.

"Very good," Carson said. "Hold your arms out behind you." Carson made an X-shape across Rodney's chest and then filled in more, like an asterisk without the top line, before quickly tying off the last of the cloth. The whole process took less than two minutes. "You look amazing, Rodney, and you did a very nice job of holding still. Do you have an idea for tying my swim cloth or would you like me to give you directions?"

"I had a plan," Rodney admitted.

"Alright then." Carson stripped and stood beside the bed with Rodney still kneeling as he wrapped Carson in a much more spiraling and in some places almost loose fashion than he'd used on John or than Carson had used on Rodney. It created a different effect, almost like a Greek toga, and John wondered if there was symbolism to that in Rodney's mind. "Very nice. Thank you, Rodney," Carson said as he remained standing and stroked Rodney's hair.

"What do you think, John?" Carson met John's gaze, drawing his eyes from where they'd been watching first Rodney's hands working and then Carson's hands petting Rodney. "Should we relax here or in the bath?"

"I doubt we'd all fit in your bath," John said, even as he glanced around at all the bath items Rodney had given them.

"You might be surprised what a determined scientist and an Ancient city can do to a person's bathroom when they aren't supposed to be watching." Carson smiled.

"You knew," Rodney muttered, leaning into Carson's shoulder.

"I've used my own bathroom since the party, you know." Carson rubbed Rodney's neck the way he'd rubbed John's not long before.

"Should I bring the vanilla and eucalyptus bath melt?" John asked.

"And the bath mitts," Rodney insisted, sounding a little more spirited, even if his voice was muffled against Carson's shoulder.

"Sure thing, buddy." Despite it all, John was surprised when he entered the bathroom and saw the relatively large Ancient shower enclosure now took up one entire end of the bathroom and was surrounded by a three-foot-high wall with steps leading up. He was pretty sure Carson's bathroom now went back further than it had before, and John tried to imagine what room was on the other side.

"It was only storage," Rodney said, without prompting.

"Atlantis helped you with this?" John asked.

"I started sketching designs on a tablet, one wired for Ancient tech, admittedly. The next thing I knew, a subroutine for modular building adjustments appeared on the Ancient console beside me."

"She is bonded to you as well," John said, feeling only a little left out as he followed Rodney and Carson into a tub already filled with very warm water. A gust of bubbles went off beside him before he was even completely seated.

"I think she meant it as a gift for all of us," Rodney said, curling into Carson's side across the tub from John.

"But I didn't get her anything."

Rodney wagged his finger at John. "Let the bath melt float, and give me your feet and the bath mitts, before I decide you're an idiot after all." John did as he was told. The bath melt began to foam gently, scenting the room with vanilla and eucalyptus as promised. Rodney kept the bath mitt that was textured more like terry cloth and one of John's feet on his knees—a perfect fit given the width of the tub—while Carson gently placed John's left foot on his knees and started to slowly rub the outer edge below the pinky toe with a mitt textured more like a loofah.

It was surprisingly distracting to have two different people do what they wanted with each of his feet using different strokes and different textures. Rodney used his fingers quite a bit as well, rubbing John's arch and tracing between John's toes as he said, "You know, the firebug was a pretty good gift for Atlantis. It will take us a while to try out recharging a ZedPM, but I hooked it up in the hydroelectric plant downstairs today. We can definitely put a small trickle of power in and organize bursts of voltage differential to trigger switches or open specific valves. That's a minor task in the grand scheme of Atlantis, but the firebug makes the process more efficient. Also, Atlantis seems to think it makes whatever is in the box now—well, I'm not sure if 'happy' is the right word, but there's an optimization function associated with finding useful work for it."

Rodney delivered the whole spiel without a glance up at John. He seemed intent on John's foot, with a sort of rhythm to his work that felt amazing. John didn't know what headspace the scientist was in, but he wasn't going to complain. What Rodney had shared about the firebug, or whatever it combined to form with the robot-carried crystal, made John feel better about the solution they'd found. The way Atlantis had interacted with Rodney on that and the new jacuzzi bath, had John imagining their four-person bond in a new way. While Atlantis may be almost incomprehensible and very differently bodied, she seemed determined to be there for all of them, connecting with them in whatever ways made the most sense for each individual and situation.

As Carson set aside his bath mitt and used only his bare hands, John realized that the skin on that foot was slightly tender and more responsive to Carson's touch. "Did Atlantis provide the hair removing device after we bonded or before?"

"It was one of the discoveries in what's now the rec center," Carson said. "So before we bonded, but after I sensed there was something changing for all four of us."

"You were way ahead of me," John said, even as he relaxed deeper into the water and the myriad sensations coming up through each foot and the bubbles to each side of him.

"We've each had different parts to learn, all along the way. You've learned to deal most directly with Atlantis, who I dare say is the most complex of us all."

There was a slight surge of bubbles, and John rested a hand by where the water and power were controlled for the tub.

"Did you notice we all gave very tactile gifts this holiday?" Rodney asked, seemingly out of nowhere. John nudged his foot against Rodney's palm.

"We were all a bit touch starved until recently," Carson said as he ran his hands up John's calf. Rodney quickly followed suit.

Their touch felt amazing, but John didn't feel overwhelmed or needy the way he had at the start. "So what I feel now is simply touch, without being touch starved?"

"Is it simply touch when it comes from people who care about you? Your partners? Bond mates?" Carson asked.

John rolled his neck side to side, not understanding Carson's point but too relaxed to shake his head properly. "Not like I'm doing this with anyone else."

"But even a hand on the back of your neck would feel different depending on the person and situation." Carson's strokes became lighter. Again, Rodney followed suit, causing John to shiver both at the touch and against the idea of anyone else touching him that way. He imagined he felt their bond flowing between them as well, with Atlantis holding them all in the new tub. Carson continued, soft as his caress. "I think touch may be the least simple of all our senses. It may feel different now that you've reacclimatized to being touched. Hopefully it still feels good."

"Yeah, very." John sank almost all the way down to the water's surface so his feet could half embrace his partners without interfering with how they touched him. He was lying almost spread eagled near the surface of the water, but rather than feeling exposed, he felt connected. His mind ran back to what he'd been wondering before, about how Atlantis interacted with Carson. "More recently that the discoveries from the rec center, has Atlantis helped you with anything?"

"We find new Ancient devices and information from our consoles all the time. Who's to know what Atlantis has a hand in?" Carson reached for John's hands and basically pulled him forward so he was straddling both their laps. The three of them leaned their heads together, and John definitely felt the bond surge between them.

After a few deep breaths, Rodney broke the near silence. "Didn't my minions clear some diagnostic micro-drones just a few days ago? Did those help with any specific problem?"

Carson slid his hands up and down John's spine and Rodney's side a few times before answering. "Well, they did help me diagnose something unexpected, making that patient and perhaps others he interacts with much happier lately."

"Oh, my god," Rodney sat up straight and John only stayed seated because his feet clung instinctively. Carson adjusted the hand on John's back to offer more support as Rodney sputtered, "Atlantis helped you cure something for Woolsey, that's why he hasn't pissed anyone off recently."

"You know I cannae confirm or deny that." But Carson's smile and the surge in his accent told John all he needed to know. He could have seen it as a twist on _The Grinch Who Stole Christmas_ , but John knew Atlantis took care of them all, even beyond their bond mates, all the time in ways they might never suspect. That could have been frightening, but they'd all done frightening things in the past: woken the Wraith, developed a drug that was fifty percent lethal, blown up three-fourths of a solar system. The four of them working together had to be better than all that. And John couldn't resist singing, "Fah who foraze! Dah who doraze!"—which caused a splash fight and a lot of water sloshing out of the tub.

It was all totally worth it.

 

The End


End file.
